


Labyrinth: The Dark Court

by KBates



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dark Labyrinth, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Game of Thrones-esque, Graphic Sex, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Political Alliances, Romance, Violence, court intrigue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-07-19 00:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 126,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7336897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KBates/pseuds/KBates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sarah is forced into surrendering herself to The Goblin King, she must find her place in the Dark Court of the Underground. Between her dealings with the treacherous courtiers and the icy king, she must play her cards right or get swallowed up by the darkness. Rated for dark themes, violence, and sexual content. </p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or any characters associated with the Labyrinth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Invitation

Until this moment, I had never really believed I went through the Labyrinth. I had convinced myself that the whole ordeal was a figment of my imagination—a bored fourteen-year-old girl dreaming up a romantic villainous king, all the while saving her brother…seems somewhat unrealistic, doesn't it?

I'd always had a vivid imagination, so I simply told myself that it was a dream. Days turned into months, and months into years, and I never encountered anything that led me to believe the experience was real.

Even now, as I held the peach in my hand, I was stunned. Part of me wanted to run out my father's house, get into my car and drive until I hit California (pretty far considering that his house is in Connecticut). However, a more rational part of me would never allow that because I know what is at stake.

My poor father sat on the kitchen bar stool, shaken. His wife, completely bewildered, was whipping up a quick scrambled egg mash for him. My brother, the little pest, was soundly sleeping in his room unaware of the tension in the kitchen.

I clenched my fists as I made my way into the kitchen, a calm expression had settled on my face and a smile on my lips. I'd spent years taking acting lessons, I knew that I could be quite convincing.

"Daddy, I'm sure that was some sort of hallucination, you don't need to look so upset," I said, my voice chirpy. "Smells good Karen," I added, smiling at her.

My father turned to look at me, his eyes still wide. "He asked me for my firstborn daughter," his voice shook. "Forget about the girl…"

"Oh daddy, how sinister," I kept my tone sarcastic, but my voice wavered as I felt cold chills run down my spine. _He asked me for my first born child_.

"Robert, you've been on the road for hours. I'm sure you didn't even stop for lunch. All that and the stress of the business and securing the contract must have taken a toll," Karen nagging screech to it, but I knew she was genuinely concerned for him.

My father turned to Karen, his eyes wider still. "He said he would make sure my business dealings were successful." His voice was deep but soft. "He said he knew I wouldn't refuse him…he laughed."

It took every bit of strength I had not to sink down to the floor and bury my head in my hands. For years now, my father's consulting business had been slowly dying. He had kept a positive outlook—but bit by bit, his soul had worn out as business never picked up. Especially now that he refinanced the house last year, he knew that this was his last chance. If he failed to secure this contract, his family would lose their home and Toby probably wouldn't be able to go to college.

I kept my voice light as didn't want him to think I believed him even remotely. "Just for some clarification daddy, tell me exactly what you think happened."

My father looked away from my face and sighed, as if he was embarrassed. "I was driving back from Chicago, after presenting my deck to Shellman & Co when it began raining torrentially." He stopped and shrugged as if trying to understand what had happened.

"It was very sudden and my car started spinning out of control and ended up in the ditch. I got out of the car to look for help but there were no other cars on the highway. I walked a bit and saw a small cottage with dim lighting and went in…" He stopped and raised his eyes to meet mine, desperately searching them for some signs of belief.

"Go on daddy," I said, sweetly encouraging.

"There was no one inside but the table had a dinner spread so I helped myself, thinking I would repay the host later. I waited for the host for two hours until I fell asleep on the couch and woke up this morning-"

"Robert that was ridiculously irresponsible of you, the food was obviously drugged!" Karen cut in, her voice firm and also relieved. From her point of view, that was indeed the most probable reason for my dad's 'hallucination.' "I was so worried when you didn't come home last night, I had to ask Sarah to come over immediately. We were going to call hospitals and police stations looking for you!"

"That was no problem at all Karen," I said in a placating voice.

My father stopped and considered the idea—suddenly reason flooding back in his eyes. I could see it clearly, the aha! of course! moment. "Yes…yes," he repeated, suddenly standing up, looking a lot less shaken up.

"Daddy, I'd still like to hear what you think happened after that," I said, pretending to whine. I desperately had to know.

"I freshened up, left fifty dollars to compensate for the food and lodging, and was leaving the cottage as I passed by a wild rose bush." He turned to look at me, "I couldn't help but think that you would love wild roses…in fact, something or someone whispered it into my ear 'lovely roses for a lovely girl'… so I plucked a few." He paused, his eyebrows drew in fear as he recalled the exact event.

"That was when he came…and you'll laugh when I tell you this, but I don't think he was human. He was something else entirely…tall, probably six and a half feet and his hair was silver like a halo around his head. He was a creature dressed in something that looked like a medieval war armor. When he spoke to me I noticed that his teeth were sharp."

"What about his eyes daddy?" I asked, unable to contain myself.

"His eyes were the most frightening part of him. One was clear blue and sharp, as if it could look into your very soul. The other was the shade of evergreen pine with a ring of amber around the iris."

"What did he say?" I asked softly. I could feel my heart thudding in my ears.

"He said I had disrespected his hospitality and I would have to pay with my firstborn daughter."

"What were his exact words daddy?"

"He said he would be generous and give me a deal that he would not to others. He gave me a peach and said that if I went home and gave my firstborn daughter the peach then he would not only forgive me, but he would make sure my business dealings were successful and my family prosperous." My father looked uncomfortable "he said forget about the girl, you have a new family, focus on them—he said that as he gave me the peach. And I took it…God help me Sarah, but I took it. " His face turned white.

My heart broke. The Goblin King had taken my father's misfortunes and played with his mind by giving him a prize he couldn't afford to lose.

"Oh daddy, you don't have to freak out about something that didn't even happen," I said, smiling, reassuring him that none of that had actually happened. "What happened next?"

"I got into the car and drove home…gave you the peach, and drank a glass of whiskey." His voice had now turned sheepish, as if he couldn't believe he would have been so stupid as to believe that he had signed away his firstborn daughter to some mythical creature.

"Guzzled is the word Robert, not drank," Karen added, as she served up a steaming plate of scrambled eggs with mushroom. "Off to bed immediately after you finish this meal," she said, using her 'do not mess with me' voice that she often used with Toby.

"I'll see you guys in the evening, I have to work on one of my patient's report," I said as I walked out of the kitchen and climbed up the stairs to Toby's room.

The kid was still asleep when I got in, though I suppose I couldn't really call a fifteen-year-old a kid anymore. I swear, he could sleep through a nuclear Armageddon, even if it was happening next door. I sat by his bed and ruffled his hair. "I'll miss you kiddo," I said softly before getting into the guest room.

I shut the door and sat on the bed, knowing what I must do next. I could feel the blood roaring in my ears as I held the peach.

I would fulfil my father's unwitting part of the deal…that would ensure he would fulfil his part of the deal and make sure my family was always comfortable. My poor father wouldn't have to worry about his business anymore and Toby would most definitely get to go to a good college without having to take a soul crushing loan.

Closing my eyes, I took a bite. My head hit the pillow almost instantly and my vision turned black.


	2. The Silver Lady

I awoke to a heated argument taking place in screechy whispers. Judging by the voices, there were three of them.

"Pssst, that's her."

"That can't be her ya dolt!"

"I heard the Defeater of the Labyrinth was as tall as a giant and had the wings of a bat."

"I heard it was a girl who ate the peach."

"She's the girl who ate the peach ya idiot."

"What rubbish. I heard she was covered in fur and could call upon the rocks."

"How can a woman be covered in fur you moron?" asked the screechiest voice, incidentally, also the most logical of the lot.

"I heard Diesk's wife is covered in fur."

"No she ain't."

"Well then she should be, it'd be a right improvement from how she looks right now."

Chaos ensued after that. I assumed Diesk punched the other goblin and a fight broke out between the three.

Taking deep breaths, I opened my eyes slowly and took in my surroundings. I was in a large bed, in a sparsely decorated room that had stone walls. There was a line windows across the room but they had been shut with chrome shutters. A warm fire roared at the fireplace next to the bed, illuminating the room with a cozy glow. Embroidered tapestries hung on the walls and strange but beautiful chandeliers made up of raw crystals hung down from ceiling. I pushed the heavy duvet as I stepped onto the animal fur rug lying on the floor.

"Could you answer some questions for me?" I asked the three goblins.

They were fighting so fast that they looked like three green balls that whizzed and smashed against one another. The whizzing and smashing stopped immediately after I spoke and the three green creatures huddled against each other, their all black eyes hooked onto me. They looked positively terrified.

"So will you?" I asked again as the three uniformly took a step back from me. "Please," I added.

"What do you want to know Defeater of the Labyrinth?" Screechiest asked me, his voice shaky.

"Am I in the castle in the center of the Labyrinth?"

The three tiny figures whispered amongst themselves before the one called Diesk answered "No Defeater. Yous in the King's castle."

My blood ran cold and my heart beat slowed down. The King's castle. My head spun and I could feel the floor slipping beneath my feet. I took in deep breaths until the feeling of nausea and vertigo passed.

"Yous supposed to be sleeping after eating the peach," Diesk said, almost like he was reprimanding a child.

"What are your names?" I asked.

"He's Diesk," Screechiest said, "I'm Puffer and that one's Shriek." They huddled one step back again.

"I'm Sarah," I said, smiling. "Nice to meet you." May as well be polite.

"Yous not the Defeater are ya?" Diesk blurted before being struck on the head by Puffer.

"I solved the King's Labyrinth, but I don't think I'm the Defeater."

All three gaped at me, open mouthed.

"But you was great beast having fur and giant big claws of a bear!" Shriek said, the dumbfounded expression still on his face.

I laughed aloud. At fourteen, I'd thought of myself as the beautiful princess and not a great big beast with giant claws. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I've never had fur or claws," I said, glad they'd finally stopped huddling to the back of the room.

"Did the King bring me here?" I asked. I had expected to wake up in a dungeon or an oubliette, I certainly hadn't expected to wake up in a comfortable bed.

The three looked at each other. "No, the King was in a rage he was. He tolds us you're not supposed to be here. That we was to guard you."

"Who brought me here?" I asked.

The goblin paid me no attention as he became very agitated.

"The King also tolds us to take you to Lady Meyrra if yous woke up," said Puffer in a panic, as if he suddenly remembered the King's instructions.

He suddenly jumped close to me and grabbed my hand, "Come on Defeater, the King'll get angry if we don't takes ya."

Shriek and Diesk also came up to me and started pulling my arm, herding me to the door.

They led me through a narrow corridor to a bigger, grander one. Animal skin rugs adorned the floor and tapestries, much bigger and more intricate than the one that hung in the room I had woken up in, adorned the walls. Vaulted windows lined the hall walls on both sides, and the view outside made me stop on my tracks. The castle was perched on the top of a mountain and I could see the mountain range, covered with pine trees, for miles. Heavy white snow blanketed the landscape and pale stars adorned the crisp blue night sky.

I could feel my teeth rattle as a cold breeze blew into the hall, making the flames of the torches dance against the stony walls.

"Come on Defeater," Puffer said testily as he ushered me towards a smaller corridor. "We ain't gots all day."

They led me to a door and indicated that I should go in. The minute I pushed the heavy wooden door open, the three goblins zipped away, down the corridor from where they'd brought me. I was half convinced I'd hallucinated the damn creatures.

I stepped inside, what I thought, was a small library. There were volumes of leather bound books on shelves that lined the walls all the way to the ceiling. Smaller windows at the very top of the wall let in pale moon light which caught onto the raw crystal chandeliers that hung from the iron domed ceiling. There was a fire place built into the wall, and I drew closer by instinct. I'd been so distracted that I hadn't realized how cold I was. I was still dressed in the thin cotton night gown that I'd worn in the mad dash to my father's house.

"The goblins were instructed to fit you in a robe before bringing here, Sarah Williams" said a deep but female voice.

I turned to look at the woman, probably Lady Meyrra, and almost huddled back like the three goblins had done. The woman in front of me, well, she clearly wasn't human. She was over six feet tall and was as white as snow. Paper white almost. Her large almond eyes were icy blue, almost iridescent like a cat's. Her facial features were sharp, elongated almost, but most certainly beautiful. She had fine lines along her cheeks and eyes. Long silver locks fell down her shoulders and gathered at her waist.

If Jareth looked otherworldly, this woman looked completely alien.

She strode into the room as I kept gaping at her. "They're not used to your kind, they don't realize how…fragile you are." Her tone was neither friendly, nor hostile.

"I am Lady Meyrra, the Silver Lady. Defeater of the Labyrinth," she said, tilting her head slightly as she appraised me, "cat got your tongue?"

I took in a deep breath, "I do not understand what is happening," I said, which was true enough. There were so many questions buzzing in my mind that there was no point in asking anything.

She flashed a smile, and I shuddered. Her teeth were all canines, sharp and pointy. She probably wasn't vegetarian and I hoped I wasn't her dinner.

"Neither do we," she said, her tone the same—neither friendly, nor hostile. "You were bound by magic to the Labyrinth and by proxy, the Goblin King. How did that happen?"

"How would I know?" I asked, incredulous.

She didn't answer as she strode across the room and sat down in a leather bound arm chair by the fire, her ice blue eyes fixated on me the whole time. She was studying my reaction.

"You think I did this?" I asked, incredulous still.

She stared at me for a beat before replying. "No."

"Why don't you ask your precious King then?" My voice had become louder as I felt sheer panic.

"The Labyrinth brought you here human, we know that."

My panic turned into anger. "Your King tricked my father into giving me the peach, he described the King in detail. It was him, not a bloody maze." Thoughts started swimming in my head and my breathing quickened. I felt a slow building hum against my skin and I was suddenly propelled forward and pushed into an armchair next to Meyrra. I felt sick afterwards.

"Don't be concerned about the sickness, it's an after effect of magic," Lady Meyrra said coolly. She hadn't moved a muscle. "I've heard enough from you."

Like hell, I wanted to scream but to my horror, I couldn't. Magic had rendered me mute.

"The Labyrinth is a sentient being with magic so vast, it can crumble our realm and yours into dust. It is not a bloody maze. My nephew, the Goblin King, Sovereign of Dreams, Master of Nightmares and First Ruler of the Labyrinth, is the only being to which the Labyrinth has surrendered. Even so, he cannot access the Labyrinth's magic at will. For reasons that are entirely unclear to any of us, the Labyrinth has chosen you to be its vessel—the link between the King and itself."

My shock must have been written on my face as I felt my eyes widen in disbelief.

The silver woman looked at me, searching for answers. Reading me like I was a book. "Speak," she commanded.

And just like that, I found my voice. "This has to be a mistake," I said, unable to keep my voice from trembling. I could feel hysteria settling in as a nervous laugh bubbled through my throat.

"I'm a psychologist," I gushed, "Actually, I'm a junior therapist in my firm. I have a Master's degree. I don't even have my own practice because I couldn't commit to a Ph. D. I thought the whole thing had been a dream." I paused for a breath, "this is absolutely insane. I've gone insane. I'm hallucinati-"

"Silence."

My rant stopped automatically as, once again, my voice escaped me and the feeling of nausea set in. Magic.

"This was no mistake, the Labyrinth has chosen you. You shall live up to its expectations."

'I am exhausted of living up to your expectations of me.'

I stared into her ice blue eyes defiantly. She may have stopped my speech, but I gave her a look that said 'no way in hell, lady.'

"Then you shall die. The contract between Robert Williams and the Labyrinth shall be voided by your death." There was no emotion in her coldly regal voice.

I slumped. Tears pricked my eyes but I forced them down. The contract ensured my father would have a prosperous business and my brother wouldn't have to live in poverty or uncertainty.

"You may speak."

I looked up at her—she was in the exact same position as when she first sat down. Not one strand of hair had moved. "I thought the King had brought me back for revenge…not this. I don't know if I'm even capable of doing any of that. I will most likely die trying and the contract will be void."

"If you die in the service of the Labyrinth, the contract shall stand for eternity."

I sighed involuntarily, my mind was overwhelmed with the enormity and impossibility of what was happening around me.

"So what do you want from me?" I asked, knowing she wouldn't give me a full answer.

The Silver Lady smiled again, her razor sharp teeth reflecting the light from the raw crystal chandeliers. "You will partake in a binding ceremony. Should you survive being bound to the Labyrinth, you will begin training with magic. As the Labyrinth's vessel, you will be expected to attend the Dark Court."

"Should I survive it?" Numbness took over me as panic and anger diminished.

"As I said, humans are fragile creatures. Why the Labyrinth chose a human as its vessel is a mystery. First, however, you shall be sworn in as a subject of the Goblin King so you may acquire his protection."

"I don't want to be the Goblin King's sub-"I couldn't complete the sentence as her magic cut me off again. I didn't feel as nauseous this time around.

"You have been brought to our realm, our Kingdom, as a human with no ties to any land—that, Sarah Williams, makes you a slave. My nephew could easily have you put in a dungeon and used you as a vessel when he had need of you, as I advised him to do. Instead, he's chosen to give you his protection as his subject without testing your loyalty first. I suggest you think twice before you say your words."

"Say your right words, the goblins said."

Numbness took over me again—I should have been afraid but didn't feel anything. Perhaps I was too afraid to feel anything. "My apologies," I whispered.

Lady Meyrra gathered her robes as she stood up, her cat like eyes never left mine. With a wave of her hand, she fashioned a goblet out of thin air and handed it to me. "Human minds are weak. Drink this Sarah Williams, it will put you at ease."

My hands were shaking so badly, I had to quickly put my mouth to the goblet to make sure I didn't spill the dark red liquid swirling inside. The drink tasted strange, not like anything I'd had before. Lady Meyrra's eyes were still fixated on me as I drank the contents of the goblet and for the second time, my vision slowly faded into nothingness.

I was back in my room when I awoke…my room, it felt strange thinking about it like that. The fire was in full blaze and one window was open. I found a fur lined robe hanging from a tall chest of drawers next to the bed and slipped it on before putting on a matching pair of slippers that were on the floor.

I felt fury, slow burning fury, build in my chest. This was the second time I'd been drugged by magic and that giant silver woman had not given me any relevant answers.

Something snapped in head. I was going to find her and get some answers, consequences be damned. I walked into the first stone corridor, hoping to enter the great hall. Every time I thought I got close, somehow or the other, I ended right back in front of my room.

I slumped down against the cold wall until I was sitting on the floor. After walking in circles for the last hour, I felt like tearing my hair out.

"I am curious why you prefer sleeping on the floor to the warm bed I've provided."

I went deathly still as the Goblin King's rich baritone voice filled the hallway. Blood roared in my ears and I lifted my head to look at him.

He stood tall, taller than the Silver Lady. Dressed in a black leather jacket with silver lapels, black pants, and long boots, he looked captivating. The leather in his clothes was unusual—I'd never seen that kind of leather before. His skin was pale, but more human looking than his aunt's. I couldn't quite bring myself to look into his eyes.

"Look at me, Sarah." His voice was quiet but commanding.

I slowly lifted my head to look into the mismatched eyes of the Goblin King.


	3. The Dual Eyed King

Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.

My body and mind were both aware that I was in the presence of a predator. My limbs were locked by a primitive instinct to flee far away as I looked into his terribly beautiful eyes. One of his eyes was as icy blue as the Silver Lady's, and the other was green, like the evergreen pine surrounding us outside. The iris was encircled by an amber ring, just like my father had described. His face was the same as I remembered, sharp, all angles, and his jawline was masculine. My breath caught in my throat.

"I believe you have some questions." His voice had a hint of command but remained expressionless, just like his impassive face.

I had to take in two deep breaths before I found my voice. "I don't know where to start," I replied, glad my voice wasn't shaking like the rest of me. My heart thudded so loudly in my chest, I feel the sound ringing in my ears.

Run. Run. Run. Run Run. You silly girl.

"Perhaps you can start by getting up from the floor." His lips quirked slightly, indicating amusement. He extended a gloved hand towards me.

I sat motionless, my eyes still glued to his. I knew the smart thing to do would be to take his hand, but my arms were leaden, they refused to budge. I opened my mouth, but didn't know what to say.

The Goblin King raised an eyebrow. "Take my hand," he said, his tone neutral. It wasn't a request.

I sat deathly still, unable to move, completely frozen. "I can't," I whispered, my eyes still hooked onto his. I leaned further into the wall as blood roared in my ears and my heart thudded in my throat. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unable to flee and unable to fight.

The Goblin King sighed deeply before kneeling down on the floor so that his face was on the same level as mine. He extended a gloved hand and cupped my chin, holding my face in place. The rich scent of leather and pine cones filled my senses, drowning me in them.

Helpless. I was completely helpless.

"So afraid," he crooned, his deep voice deceptively soft. "I can feel your heart beating against your chest." He brought his face closer to mine as he rested his other hand on the side of the wall next to my face. I could almost feel his wild silver hair tickle my skin. Almost.

I paled. My heart rate skyrocketed and my breathing quickened until I couldn't breathe anymore. I was either going to pass out or have a heart attack. Shutting my eyes tightly, I clenched my teeth, before gasping for air. Just like that my heart rate slowed down to its usual rhythm and my breathing normalized. I felt something humming inside my skin, just under the surface. Something warm and soothing. The scent of pine cones and leather was still in the air.

I opened my eyes in a flash. "What did you do?" I asked. Demanded more like.

The Goblin King was back in his standing position, looking down at me he grinned. His eyes lightened a shade and his teeth gleamed in the moonlight. "Your heart was beating like a caged bird ready to break its wings," he said, "I slowed it down."

"You can do that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Yes."

"What's stopping you from reaching into my heart and crushing it?" I blurted before thinking.

He raised his eyebrows as genuine surprise took over his features. "Why would I want to do that?"

Well. I couldn't come up with an answer for that so I kept staring at him. Waiting for him to make a move—perhaps I could bolt down the hallway while distracting him somehow.

The Goblin King narrowed his dual eyes, "you are far more useful to me alive, Sarah Williams, Defeater of the Labyrinth." The latter half was intended to mock. He extended a gloved hand for the second time, "shall we?"

He smiled, a terrible smile of teeth and fury, as I took his hand and I suddenly felt cold, icy wind whip through me. I screamed instinctively as the wind kept tearing into me, pushing me from all angles. I kept screaming even as the wind stopped and warmth surrounded me.

"Enough."

My voice eluded me as magic silenced it.

"Open your eyes, Sarah." He said, drawing out my name as if it was his own, personal possession.

My eyes obeyed him. I felt nauseous not because of magic, but because I was fully aware that this man, this beautiful and terrible being, could control me at will and there was nothing, absolutely nothing, I could do about it.

Helpless.

"Look around you."

My breath caught in my throat. We were in the middle of the night sky amidst the pale, sparkling stars.

"We are in my atrium," he stated, "I will return your voice to you if you promise not to scream."

Bastard.

I nodded slightly. "Thank you," I said, looking away from him lest he see the anger in my eyes. Lesson number one—do not make powerful magical beings angry. Lesson number two—learn how to fight back. That would have to wait until I knew why he wanted me of all people.

"Beautiful," I murmured as I took in my surroundings. We weren't in the middle of the sky, but were standing in a room made of glass. The room was situated high on a glass ledge protruding from one of the castle spires. There were leather arm chairs next to a massive fire place at the entrance—apart from that, there was no other furniture in the room.

"How did you build a fireplace out of glass?" I wondered aloud.

"This room is built out of solid crystal, not glass," The Goblin King replied. "Take a seat," he said succinctly, indicating the chairs at the entrance.

I hesitated a beat before sitting down, grateful that he let me sit on the chair of my own accord instead of forcing me to sit down using magic. He sat down across from me, languidly leaning on the chair, relaxed. The fire gave a golden sheen to his silver blond hair and shadows danced across his face.

"Your questions."

I raised my brows, not knowing where to begin. I figured I'd start with the simplest questions I could think of "Why am I here?"

"You are here because you agreed to the Labyrinth's contract by eating the peach." His tone was neutral, his eyes studied me for a reaction.

I suppressed a growl of anger before asking in a voice as emotionless as I could manage, "my father says he saw you, he described your eyes in detail. That you gave him the peach."

The Goblin King didn't miss a beat before answering, "The Labyrinth is my vassal, I am its King—the only King to whom it has surrendered. It must have taken my form."

"That's ridiculous." Well, it was.

"That's the true answer to your question," he said evenly. It was clear that whether I believed him or not was irrelevant.

"How do I know that you are not lying?" I asked—though it was a pointless question. This thing could command my heart to cease beating, and watch me die slowly. There was no way in hell I could assess whether he was lying or not.

The Goblin King gave me a long hard look before deeply exhaling in frustration. It was the first emotional reaction I'd seen from him. "My kind is incapable of lying."

I laughed. I couldn't help it but I laughed out of hysteria, panic, and sheer stupidity. "Oh please, like I believe that." I laughed some more, a mad laugh that was a combination of frustration, anger, and incredulity.

"You are lucky I find your insolence amusing," he said, so deathly calm that my laughter died immediately. "Lying is a human trait," he continued, eyes boring into mine, "Defeater of the Labyrinth."

"Don't call me that," I said, trying to keep from snapping. He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. "Why did the Labyrinth want me in the first place?" I asked, letting the whole 'I'm incapable of lying' thing go. He'd lied through his teeth when I ran the Labyrinth, he'd be a fool if he expected me to believe him.

"I don't know," he said slowly, I suppose hoping to get an angry reaction from me. When that did not happen, he continued, "the Labyrinth was drawn to you the moment you stepped foot on it as a human child. While it tore down and devoured the rest, it aided you in getting through—a kindness it hasn't shown a single other being, human or otherwise. It begged me to keep you as the vessel and I tried."

"And failed." I must seriously have a death wish. His eyes flashed and the emotion I saw reflected in them for a split second terrified me to my core. Stupid, stupid girl.

"Did it occur to you, that had I wished it, I could have forced you to stay?" He asked, his head tilting to the side. A low humming buzz pressed against my skin and I could feel a tightening in my chest. It took me a while to realize that it was him, his power holding my heart. Letting it beat—allowing me to live.

Then it occurred to me—he could have easily forced me to stay, but he hadn't. Instead, he had let me go. The darkly beautiful king had never been in love with the silly mortal girl after all. So much for that fantasy.

"I tried brining in other humans for the role of the vessel, but they could not even withstand the binding ceremony. The Labyrinth's magic crumbled their bones into dust or ruptured blood out of their veins."

I grimaced at the imagery of violent death. The Silver Lady's words came back to me. "You will partake in a binding ceremony. Should you survive being bound to the Labyrinth, you will begin training with magic. As the Labyrinth's vessel, you will be expected to attend the Dark Court." I was suddenly very aware that I could die a most horrific death—that I held absolutely no power over my own death. The rational part of my mind, praise the gods, was able to quell down my bubbling hysteria.

"If I die like the rest of them, will the Labyrinth's fulfill its part of the contract with my father?" The Silver Lady had said it would, but I wanted to hear it from the Goblin King's lips.

He stared at me for some time before replying curtly, "yes."

"Then I will participate without objecting," I said, simply. Sudden vertigo hit me as black dots swam before my eyes, I was going to pass out…again. I fought against the feeling, hating that I was so weak against him. Against any of them.

"When was your last meal, Sarah?" he asked, not a hint of emotion in his voice.

"I don't know, before I left for my father's I think," I replied, wincing as sudden dizziness hit me again. "The magic is making me sick, please stop for a second," I asked, keeping my voice as light as I could.

"You are feeling the effects of hunger, foolish mortal woman," his voice was just a bit louder than it usually was. He fashioned a large bowl out of thin air, much like what the Silver Lady had done, and handed it to me. "Drink," he commanded.

"There's no fucking way I'm touching that" I said between clenched teeth. "Can't blame a girl for not wanting to be drugged," I quipped lightly.

The Goblin King's eyes flashed dangerously as he looked at me. "I could use my magic to make you drink the damned soup. Your decision."

Bastard.

"What's in it?" I asked, as if he'd tell me that it was drugged.

"It's chicken broth," he replied tersely "much like the chicken broth in the mortal world."

"I can't have that," I said and he let out a very annoyed sigh. Annoying something that could crush my heart any second probably wasn't a good idea, but I'd been a vegetarian for six years and there's no way I was going to have chicken broth because the Goblin King wished it.

"Why?" he spit out, acerbically.

"I'm vegetarian," I explained as he raised his brows—clearly, he hadn't expected that. "I don't eat…flesh."

The soup bowl in his hand was replaced by another one. "Vegetable stew," he said, thrusting the bowl in my direction.

I took it, inspecting the drab looking liquid that had small chunks of carrots and mushrooms. Hunger gnawed my gut as I smelled food and I drank the soup right out of the bowl, without even asking for a spoon. The soup, contrary to the way it looked, was delicious. I must have looked wild as I placed the bowl on a small table that had appeared next to me. My dizziness stopped, it had been hunger after all.

The Goblin King's eyes held mine as he awaited my questions. If he had been disgusted by my manner of eating, he didn't show it. "I, um, met your aunt earlier," I said—not knowing when. I know it had been night, but I had no way of knowing how long I'd slept after she drugged me with the wine.

"I asked her to wait until I was done…inspecting you first, but she insisted on meeting the Defeater of the Labyrinth," the Goblin King said, smiling slightly. "It's difficult to refuse the Silver Lady."

"She scared the bejesus out of me," I blurted out.

"I would have been there, but I had business to attend," he replied, his eyes lightened a bit. "She can be…frightening."

Frightening was an understatement. That woman was downright terrifying. "She told me that you could have thrown me into the dungeon or oubliette," I said, the unsaid question lingered, why didn't you?

He laughed. Not a threatening or mocking laugh, but a genuine laugh, with his head tossed back and sharp teeth in full view. I felt something sharp in my chest.

"Do not take it personally," he said, a tiny hint of laughter still in his voice, "her military background prompts her to test loyalty first."

"She was in the military? You mean your goblin army?" I asked, wide eyed. Sometime in the last few seconds, my fear of the Goblin King seemed to have gone into hiding.

He raised a brow. "Most certainly not. She would have killed all the goblins or herself out of sheer frustration. She was the general in my father's army during the Court Wars."

I opened my mouth to ask another question before shutting it promptly. Stupid girl, ask relevant questions. "She said something about swearing in as your subject."

"I am the King and you are a foreigner in my kingdom. Our laws dictate that I can either provide you the rights that are granted to the rest of my subjects or that I keep you as a slave. The choice, Sarah, is yours."

"What's the difference?" I asked, almost flippantly. "You hold absolute power over me in both scenarios."

"Perhaps you shall know the difference soon enough," he said, his voice deathly quiet. The threat in his words did not go unnoticed, and the fear that had gone into hiding crept right back up my spine.

"What is a vessel?" I asked, hoping to quickly change the subject.

"A vessel stores magic," he replied, his eyes calculating my reaction once again, "your body will store the Labyrinth's magic and allow me access."

"Can I access the Labyrinth's magic?" I asked, hell, if I was to store the damn magic, I should bloody well have access to it. Fortunately, I had the brains not to say that part aloud.

"If I permit it."

"So let me get this straight…you can do whatever you want with me, either as a subject or a slave," I tried keeping my voice neutral, devoid of emotion like him, but failed miserably. Anger colored my voice. "You can use my body to store the Labyrinth's magic if and when you desire. And you can force my limbs, my body, maybe even my mind to do whatever you like. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

Jesus. I was royally fucked.

"Good to know where I stand," I said, mad cheer in my voice. "What do you want from me now?" my voice was clipped. For the first time, in this whole ordeal, I was actually afraid I was going to lose my mind far before I lost my life.

"I want you to stay with me as my…guest," he replied, still studying me. "Train with magic, learn to be a powerful vessel—be my ally."

I gaped at him. I hadn't expected that. "Why choose humans to be the vessel, couldn't you get…someone like you?" I asked, changing the subject since I didn't know what to say to him.

"Someone like me," he replied, a small sneer twisted his lips, "would be more powerful than someone like you."

"Control," I said, almost smiling now that I knew why he wanted me specifically. "You want someone you will be able to control. The rest of the humans that you…experimented with died, so you want someone preapproved by the Labyrinth itself." I felt sick. My emotions ran haywire below the surface.

"I did not want you," he said, voice was neutral, like he didn't have a care in the world. He eyed me like a cat eyed a mouse, languidly, daring it to escape. "The Labyrinth wanted you and took the steps to obtain you by its own means. I tried getting other humans to fulfill the role, but the Labyrinth wanted you. Sarah." He said my name like he was devouring the syllables. Saaaa—rah. The tiny hairs on my arm stood on edge, it was almost as if I could feel his power in his voice.

Keep it together, I commanded myself, hoping it'd work. Don't you dare lose your mind, Williams—I imitated my high school soccer coach's voice. "So what now?" I asked, glad when my voice came out steady.

"I will escort you back to your room and you will sleep. You will come down for breakfast in the great hall and begin your training tomorrow."

"With you?"

"Your training task shall be undertaken by the Silver Lady," he said.

"I must be the luckiest woman alive," I said sarcastically, the woman would probably throw me in the dungeon the first chance she got.

"She understands that you are human and have certain limitations."

"How reassuring."

The Goblin King rose as he extended his gloved hand towards me. This time, I took it without delay and the icy wind tore at me once more. I gritted my teeth and forced my lips shut as a scream bubbled in my throat.

"Sweet dreams, Sarah," the Goblin King said as I opened my eyes and found myself standing beside the door to my room. I shuddered as I remembered that he was the Sovereign of Dreams and the Master of Nightmares—he ruled me even in my sleep.

"Sarah," he said, suddenly standing close to me. Close enough that I felt his breath on the back of my neck. "Don't bother wandering the halls, there's an enchantment placed that makes you return to your room." In a flash, he was gone.

So earlier, when I had wandered the halls in the cold, for an entire hour, I had been doomed to keep returning to my own door. I stormed into my room and banged the door shut and screamed. I kept screaming until the anger and frustration wore off.

I could have sworn I heard deep laughter from the end of the hall.


	4. The Warrior and the Princess

I could hear heavy wooden shutters being pulled open as a brilliant flash daylight bathed the room in light. Opening my eyes wearily, I looked at two silver haired women coming towards me—their icy blue eyes furrowed in concern. They were smaller than I was and their limbs were painted with what looked like liquid silver. Or perhaps that was the color of their skin. Either way, they were unsettling. They donned identical white robes that were held up in the shoulders with wooden clips.

"The King awaits your presence in the Great Hall, Defeater," said one of the women, her voice had a light, musical quality to it. "We are here to help you dress."

"I am perfectly capable of dressing myself, thank you," I said abruptly, pushing the heavy coverlet aside.

The two women looked at each other before the other one replied, "Regardless, we are to help you dress." She had the same melodious voice as the first one.

This was ridiculous. Did the King really think I was incapable of dressing myself?!

"Fine," I said, making an effort not to grit my teeth.

They looked relieved as they ushered me into the bathroom. I raised my brows. The bathroom was almost as big as the room itself. There was a mirrored armoire at the entrance and a large, sunken marble bath tub in the middle. In New York, that thing could have been called a swimming pool. A slate sink stood in the side and a smaller door at the edge opened up to a privy chamber—which, praise Jesus, looked modern enough. As the castle was, what I'd describe as medieval, I had been scared to death that all they used was a bucket for bathroom purposes. There were no intricate carvings or gold faucets, but the natural luxury of marble, slate, and stone made the room look beautiful. Next to the bath tub was a curtained area.

I was too busy gaping at bathroom when I felt small hands tugging my night gown. "I'll do that, please," I said, jumping a bit away from the twin nuisances. They looked at each other again, slightly dumfounded. "You can leave now, I'll get ready and head to the Great Hall."

"The King has instructed us to escort you, Defeater."

"Then you can wait outside the bathroom, I am perfectly capable of bathing myself."

The silver Tinker Bells looked at each other again and then at me, like I was the strangest thing they had ever seen. Clearly, I was breaking all kinds of protocol, but I wasn't going to let them bathe me. "Please," I said, keeping my voice firm.

When they finally realized that I wasn't going to budge, they bowed. "Your possessions are in the wardrobe," one said, indicating the curtained area. "The water has been warmed enough to suit humans. We shall wait for you outside your room." They bowed again before leaving.

I could barely keep my teeth from chattering as I brushed my teeth and splashed some water on my face. I hadn't felt the cold during the night thanks to the fireplace in my room—the bathroom, however, was a different scenario. Fortunately, the water in the bathtub was luxuriously warm—warm enough that it almost felt to hot. The various containers holding soaps and shampoos smelled divine. I could get used to this.

"Defeater, the King demands your presence." The silver Tinkerbells called, clearly agitated.

I sprang up from the bath. The last thing I needed was His Royal Highness barging into the bathroom. "I'll be right out," I told them, quickly opening up the curtained area. Sure enough, my clothes and shoes lined the wardrobe racks and shelves. More than half the space remained empty as I'd saved any extra money I had for my dad.

Frowning as I surveyed my clothing options, I wondered what I could wear—most of my clothes were for work. Pencil skirts and tailored pants certainly didn't fit the medieval castle look. In any case, I wanted something that would not limit my movement. I settled for a pair of jeans—one of my two pairs—and my heaviest sweater along with a pair of calf length, wool lined boots. I tied my thick dark hair in a high ponytail and clipped it into a bun.

If the silver Tinkerbells had found my behavior to be strange, they found my clothing to be stranger. They looked at me wide eyed before one said, "We shall request the castle seamstress to make some dresses for you, Defeater. Woolen ones, suitable for humans."

I opened my mouth to argue, but thought against it. I'd take up my grievances with the King when I had the chance.

"So…what are your names?" I asked as I followed them through corridors and hallways. "I'm Sarah," I offered with an encouraging smile.

"I am Cryen," said one with a bow, "that's Xia."

We walked past the grand hallway that I remembered from the day before and into a narrow space that opened up to huge, sunlit room. Vaulted bay windows adorned the entire wall on one side, opening up the view to the mountains outside. War armors of various kinds adorned the stone walls—some were small enough for goblins while others were made for giants, possibly. Raw crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. In the middle of the hall was a long table made of a single slab of black glass surrounded by chairs made of smooth slabs of wood.

At the head of the table, sat the Goblin King, seemingly engrossed in a hefty, book like document on the table. A large tray full of various cheeses, fruits, and smoked ham was next to him, but it looked untouched. I stumbled, uncertain as to whether I should approach him.

How did people address kings in the medieval times anyway? Curtsey? Bow? Placing one's head on the floor and waiting for his Royal Highness to grant you the right to stand in his presence? I turned towards the silver Tinkerbells for advice but, to my misfortune, they had vanished—much like the goblins from the day before. Right when I'd decided that a loud cough was the way to go, his voice filled the room.

"Join me for breakfast, Sarah." Once again, it wasn't a request. He didn't bother looking at me, his dual eyes still studying the document. I suppose that was a good thing—his unnerving gaze had the tendency to pin me to the spot.

As I walked closer to the table, I noticed that place had been set for me on his side with a tray similar to his, minus the ham. Well, well, he had remembered the part about me being vegetarian. "Um…good morning" I said, awkwardly sitting down. He stopped looking at the document and slowly turned towards me. His ethereal eyes locked into mine for a heartbeat.

Idiot, idiot, idiot—why did I have to say anything and draw attention to myself?!

"Good morning," he answered back, his voice soft but vibrantly rich. He was dressed in a maroon colored leather jacket with silver pads on the shoulder and silver cuffs, grey pants and black boots. The jacket opened up to show a sliver of lean muscles on his chest.

I fumbled, trying to break a piece of bread.

Dear god, please let him not have noticed me stare at him.

My fork clattered against my plate loudly as my hands shook. Great.

"Slept well?" he asked, voice deceptively soft but intense enough to make the simple question sound vaguely obscene. His eyes hadn't moved off of me.

"Yes," I replied, looking anywhere but him. I stuffed my face with a fist full of buttered bread before he could ask me anything else.

"You seem ravenous today, Sarah."

Blood crept up my cheeks.

"You seem talkative today, Goblin King."

He smiled at me coldly, a slight flash of teeth. "I aim to please."

"Speaking of which, please call the Tinkerbell twins off of me." I said.

He raised a brow.

I sighed. "The girls that you sent this morning, Cryen and Xia," I explained, "I'm a grown woman, I can take care of myself."

"Their service was not to your liking?" he asked, a slight frown on his forehead.

"No," I said quickly, "they did a good job. But I was…weirded out when they started trying to take off my clothes. We tend to do things for ourselves in the human world."

"As a guest in my castle, you are entitled to have ladies maids to attend to you."

Great. He didn't get it. "I get that. I don't want to insult your hospitality or anything, but I am perfectly capable of taking off my own clothes. I do not need ladies maids for that." I realized my mistake the second I uttered those words.

The Goblin King's eyes darkened a shade as he leaned slightly in my direction. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, a cruel smile gracing his bow shaped lips, "your skill may prove itself to be useful sometime."

"Not in this lifetime," I bit out, my face, I'm sure, had turned beet red.

We seemed to have reached an impasse as I quietly ate breakfast and the Goblin King went back to studying his document—making various notes on the side with a fountain pen. I strained to look at what was on the paper, but to my chagrin, I couldn't read the alphabet.

"The bastards at court send you a summons already?" came a booming voice from the entrance of the room.

I turned up from my plate to see a tall, strapping man coming towards the table. He was as tall as Jareth, perhaps taller with a head full of midnight black, curly locks that came up to his ears. His skin was dark and bronze, not the kind of bronze caused by the sun, but a naturally dark color. He seemed ridiculously muscular but graceful at the same time. His face broke into a large smile and genuine warmth lit up his amber colored eyes when he spotted me.

"Defeater of Labyrinth?" he asked, his tone quite friendly, "it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He extended a calloused hand towards me.

I got up to shake his hand—he had an iron grip. "Hello…?" I said, a slight question.

"The polite thing to do would be to introduce us," he said, to my astonishment, to Jareth, who still hadn't looked up from the table. He sat down on opposite me, and a tray full of food appeared instantly. I gaped, the tray would have easily fed six people—there was roast chicken, potatoes, a small gravy like dish, a very large omelet made of many eggs, an entire basket of bread, a slab of cheese and a giant fruit bowl.

"Sarah, meet Ameretat, Warrior of the Ifrit clan, High General in the Army of the Goblin Kingdom," the Goblin King offered, his voice annoyed. "Amer, you've met the lovely Sarah, Defeater of the Labyrinth. And to answer your question, yes, the bastards at court have summoned me."

Ameretat, Warrior of the Ifrit clan, High General in the Army of the Goblin Kingdom? Good lord. These beings certainly reveled in making ridiculously long titles for each other.

"Nice to meet you Amer," I said, grateful that someone had joined us. I was beginning to believe the entire, massive castle was empty. He certainly looked the part of a warrior—two leather straps ran through his arm, adorned with various knives and weapons. He was also carrying a massive sword that was strapped to his right. A smaller dagger was strapped to his left.

"Likewise," he said, cutting a piece of chicken. "I have so many questions to ask you Defeater," he went on enthusiastically. "The first one being, how did a woman so delicate solve that blasted death trap?"

I raised my brows. I actually had no idea. "I had help from some friends I made along the way," I said slowly. I'd spent so many years thinking that the experience had been a hallucination, that I hadn't bothered thinking about them at all.

Amer laughed, a rich, jovial laugh. "Those friends were merely illusions created by the Labyrinth," he explained, "the overgrown maze tried to help you."

I could feel the Goblin King's eyes on me, studying my reaction. Calculating something. "I have no idea why it chose me," I said with a smile, that was the truth.

"Well, we'll figure it out in time, I suppose," Amer offered. "I'm sure the binding ceremony will answer some questions."

My blood ran cold when I was reminded of the binding ceremony. I felt foolish enough to have forgotten that I was brought here to be used. "If I survive the ceremony," I said, not warmly, with a grim smile on my face, before going back to eating breakfast.

I felt Amer and the Goblin King exchange a glance, but didn't dare look up. Please let me not break down in tears in front of them. Please.

After what felt like eternity, Amer spoke. "I'm sure you will prevail, Lady Sarah," his voice was kind. "In the meantime, I'd like to show you the armory if you are interested." He stood as he extended his hand.

I looked up. "I was supposed to train with the Silver Lady after breakfast…" I said, "I do not want to be late for that."

Amer squinted his eyes as he laughed. "Oh, I'll take you to her lair right after that." He smiled.

"Okay then," I relented. As if I was going to decline the one person who had been nice to me here. "I really, really hate this part though," I said, gingerly reaching for his hand. I could feel the Goblin King's steady eyes on me, and I looked at him for a split second before taking Amer's hand.

Wind and fire tore through me as I felt Amer's magic transport us to the Armory. I had to force myself to keep from screaming as the fire blazed around us, cackling in the wind. Fortunately, I succeeded.

"Lady Sarah, you can relax."

Gold, silver, and bronze flashed before my eyes as I took in the expansive room that was most likely bigger than the Great Hall. Unlike the Great Hall, there were no windows and the walls were adorned with thousands of weapons. Some were knives, some were swords, some were daggers, and the rest were things I had never seen. Each weapon was crafted meticulously.

"These are the most beautiful weapons I have ever seen," I said, walking towards one of the walls to inspect a row of gold knives, each bigger than the other. They had been laid out on a column with the smallest on top and the biggest at the bottom. Carved on the hilt was the dead of a goblin, face drawn, ready for war. The tip curved up, ever so slightly. Fine teeth were carved at the edge of the knife—so fine that most people would have missed it.

Amer chuckled, "you must be the only person to ever call these weapons beautiful."

"But they are crafted so well," I protested.

"Goblins, as disorganized as they are, are excellent weapon crafters," Amer told me. "It's what kept the Goblin Kingdom from being defeated during the Court Wars."

"Can I ask you something," I said, after hesitating a bit.

"Of course."

"What is the Court? I've heard it mentioned a few times. Did they send the document that Jar—The Goblin King was looking over this morning?"

"The history and politics of the Underground is complicated Lady Sarah, so I'm going to simplify it for you," Amer replied. "The realm of the Underground has eight kingdoms and two free territories. The Dark Court is made up of the beings who rule these places, along with some high nobles. The High King Deimos of Agea resides over the court, but there is a constant struggle of power between all of them. The King was summoned today because Deimos knows of your presence. He realizes that the Goblin King will surpass his powers with unlimited access to the Labyrinth's reserves. He is afraid that the Astars will rise against Agea."

I massaged my temples. This was way too much information to take in at one time. But still, I couldn't help asking for more. "The Astars?"

"The Astars, informally called Silver Bearers, are the rulers of the Goblin Kingdom. Their numbers are low, but their magical abilities are unmatched in the Underground."

Silly me. I'd presumed that the inhabitants of a place called the Goblin Kingdom would be goblins.

"So the King and the Silver Lady are Astars?" I blurted.

Amer raised a thick brow, "The Silver Lady is an Astar, the King is part Astar."

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask me what the hell he was, before Amer cut in, "the King's background is up to the King to disclose."

I considered using some tact for my next questions. Staying in a diverse place like New York City, it was generally considered rude to ask people 'what are you?' I assumed the same rules applied to the Underground, which, as it turned out, was far more diverse than I had ever imagined.

Amer laughed richly, he gave his curly dark locks an amused shake. He figured out what I was trying to ask him. "I am an Ifriti warrior from the land of Buqahar, far south from the Goblin Kingdom, across the Oceans of Eternity and Circle of Death."

I shook my head incredulously. "Perhaps one day, you can show me a map," I said, things were far too complicated than what I'd imagined.

"Enough of history for today," Amer said, extending his hand towards me once more. "I will take you for your first magic lesson." He winked, "The Silver Lady wants you to succeed, do not be too afraid of her," he said as the flames engulfed us both.

We arrived at the doorway leading to an empty room. The Silver Lady and a much shorter, silver haired girl stood at the very end.

"By your leave," Amer said, with a small bow before bursting into flames and disappearing from my sight.

I rolled my eyes. It was ridiculously easy for him to say 'do not be too afraid' when he had disappeared as quickly as he had. I made my way slowly to the end of the long, empty room. The girl, standing with the Silver Lady, was an almost miniature version of her, except that her skin was not paper white. She was still paler than the palest of humans, but not abnormally so. Her wide eyes were a tad less iridescent and her features less elongated—she was dressed in a loose, sleeveless silver robe. Judging by her looks, I'd say she was around eighteen. She broke into a wide smile as I neared her—her teeth pointy, but not scarily sharp.

Just as I was going to introduce myself, she ran up to me and took both my hands in hers. "Defeater of the Labyrinth," she said, her voice girlishly high, "I am so excited to finally meet you." And with that, she gave me a warm hug.

"You will behave yourself, Daemora," the Silver Lady's voice thundered against the walls of the room.

"Sorry mother," Princess Daemora mumbled, like any sullen teenager in the human realm.

"You will not address me as mother during your training," the Silver Lady's voice was as hard as a whip.

"I apologize, Silver Lady," the girl looked adequately contrite as she turned her wide eyes on her mother.

"Defeater," the Silver Lady addressed me, the intensity of her iridescent eyes burned my skin. "You will train in magic with my daughter, Princess Daemora of the Goblin Kingdom, as my powers may be too strong for you to withstand."

Okay then. I was going to be schooled by an eighteen-year-old. Still, it was better than being schooled by the Silver Lady.

"The binding ceremony calls for a vast amount of magic to be transferred from the Labyrinth to you. Your training sessions, before the ceremony, will focus on making sure your bones aren't ground into dust and your flesh isn't seared," the Silver Lady continued.

"Don't look so worried, Defeater," Princess Daemora cut in, her wide eyes earnest. "We will make sure that does not happen."

"Daemora, you will behave yourself and not speak out of turn," the Silver Lady's voice had gone deathly calm. "I will not repeat myself."

"Sorry," Daemora mumbled as she sneaked a wink at my direction.

"We will start by addressing the sacred fundamental law of magic," she looked at Daemora, indicating that she was now allowed to speak. She seemed like a tiger mom from hell.

Daemora didn't miss a beat. "Magic cannot be destroyed, it can only be deflected, sieved, or absorbed."

"We will start with deflection," the Silver Lady commanded. "Daemora will throw small amounts of magic at you, and you will deflect."

"How would I do that?" I asked, my brows raised high.

"You will use your instincts."

I took in a deep breath. "I have never, in all of my life, ever, had anything to do with magic. How do I deflect something I cannot even detect?"

"Your instincts will guide you, Defeater," Daemora spoke, her voice encouraging. "When I started learning, I imagined myself as one with Silver. But I think that only works with us Silver Bearers. Reach deep into your mind and shield yourself."

I could give that a shot. Gulping in some deep breaths, I closed my eyes and imagined reaching into my mind. Good thing I'd incorporated meditation into my daily routine to fight off anxiety—who would have thought it would actually come in handy one day.

I felt a sharp prick on my arm and noticed a small tear on my skin, like a papercut.

"Sorry," Daemora said with a grimace, "better luck with the next try."

This went on for four hours before we took a break for lunch and I received, what felt like, a thousand papercuts.

"Here, allow me to heal you," Daemora said, skipping up to me. "Close your eyes," she instructed as she held my hand. Just like that, all my papercuts had healed.

The Silver Lady stood, impassively watching the entire process fold out—her face devoid of any emotion, as we practiced into the late hours of the night.

"I'm sure you'll have better fortune tomorrow, Defeater," Daemora tried consoling me at around eleven, when we finally broke practice for dinner. "Cousin Jar—the King has instructed me to take you to his atrium for dinner," she said, "I don't want you to be late."

The Silver Lady gave me a quick nod—"we will practice again tomorrow, prepare yourself. Daemora, we will dine with General Amer in the Great Hall, I expect you there immediately after you deliver the Defeater to the King," she said sharply before exiting the room.

'Deliver the Defeater to the King.' As if I were some kind of package.

"Come on, Defeater, we better run or we shall be late," Daemora said, tugging my hand, far more relaxed after her mother had left the room.

"Please call me Sarah," I told her, something I hadn't dared to say when the Silver Lady had been present. "Aren't you going to transport us there using ice and wind?" I asked.

Daemora laughed, her voice sounded like silver bells. "I don't have enough magic to sift yet so we will have to run."

Daemora hadn't been kidding when she said we had to run. The damn castle was ludicrously enormous. Not only did we have to run for ages, but we had to climb a hell of a lot of stairs until we landed up outside the King's atrium. My face was red and my breathing was deep and quick. Sweat trickled down my spine.

"Wait here, Lady Sarah," Daemora instructed as she opened the door and stepped inside. I was still trying to breathe after the boot camp (castle camp?) workout, so I sat on the floor, giving my legs a break.

I heard laughter come from the room—I can't say I wasn't curious as to what they were talking about.

Daemora came out in a flash of silver. "I'll see you tomorrow after breakfast Lady Sarah, I have to run now or mother will be annoyed," she said smiling at me before running down the tower staircase as if the hounds of hell were after her.

Good lord.

"Do you have a fascination with the floor or are humans not used to furniture?"

I got up abruptly. "Neither," I replied curtly, entering the room as he held the door open for me, playing the role of the perfect, chivalrous king.

Striding across the floor, I sat down on the leather armchair next to the fireplace. I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the leather and freed my hair from the harsh top bun. Thick, sable colored hair fell across my face like a curtain.

"How was your day?" His deeply rich voice was neutral.

"Exhausting."

"Good."

I pushed my hair out of my face and turned to glare at him. "It was torturous," I all but hissed.

He smiled cruelly at my display of anger. "Learning to conduct magic at a human adult is not an easy task Sarah."

"I have no energy argue with you right now," I said truthfully, I locked my eyes into his before shutting them.

I felt him sit in the arm chair next to mine and lean into me, gripping one of my armrests with one hand. With his other hand, he held a lock of my hair between his fingers. Leather and pinecones filled my senses again and my blood ran hot. I could feel his breath against my face, but I refused to open my eyes. I could feel his power caressing my skin, soothing and sensuous. He affected me in a manner I couldn't describe even if I wanted to.

"You share your smiles with Amer so easily," he murmured, his voice so deathly calm and soft that I wouldn't have heard it if I wasn't so close to him. My breath caught in my throat and blood rang in my ears. He was too close. My skin buzzed with the quiet hum of his power. My senses were overwhelmed by his closeness. I didn't dare open my eyes.

Leather clad fingers traced the lines of my throat—I felt heat pool lower inside me. I had a sudden urge to part my lips, invite him to take a taste. His fingers traced my lips, as if he knew what I wanted to do.

"Sarah," he said, possessing my name.

I opened my eyes.


	5. Blood and Fealty

To my surprise, the Goblin King was not as close to me at all. Instead, he sat languidly in his chair, his eyes focused directly into mine, a hint of curiosity shining through. Had I hallucinated his fingers on my neck, my lips?

"You save your smiles for Amer." Had he even said those words or had it been my imagination? I paled, wondering whether I had dreamed it up—if so, had he noticed?

"Lost somewhere?"

With a start I looked at the Goblin King, my eyes wide. His intense gaze was impassive. He probably hadn't noticed. "I was wondering why you wanted to have dinner with me," I said, it wasn't entirely untrue. I eyed a risotto like dish that was placed in a small table next to me, along with a goblet of red wine.

"I presumed you had more questions." He raised a brow, when he noticed me eyeing the wine suspiciously. "That particular wine is safe for human consumption, it was brought in from a human village in Galeia."

I decided to take a chance and try it—full bodied with a rich oaky under taste and a slight hint of nutmeg, the wine tasted heavenly. "Drugging me is not necessary anymore now that I'm cooperative, is that it?" I asked, taking a bite of the risotto. I could have swooned, the dish was a blissful combination of rice, butter, cheese and cream, seasoned with basil and some other spices that were foreign to me.

He didn't take the bait. "Something like that," he responded, tone neutral, eyes intensely focused on my every move. "Your questions," he demanded, voice slight louder.

Was his mission in life to use the least amount of words when speaking to me?

"Amer filled me in on some things about the Dark Court, but I'm confused as to how it works…and what it has to do with you…and me?" That wasn't technically not a question.

"There was a war across the Underground, known as the Court Wars, four centuries ago, it lasted for three quarters of a century. Many sovereigns and leaders of kingdoms and territories across the Underground perished. When peace was finally declared, borders were redrawn and new alliances were made. The Ageans became High Rulers as they held the most power in the realm. Every kingdom and territory is answerable to the Dark Court, I am answerable to the court as I possess you, a human woman from the mortal realm, with the intent of making you the Labyrinth's vessel."

I let the 'I possess you' part go as curiosity took over. "Were you there during the war?"

"I was a child of four when the war ended."

Jesus. That made him three hundred and nineteen. He looked damn good for three hundred and nineteen—which led me to my next question. "You" I couldn't say 'you people' "the Underground population doesn't age?"

He raised a brow. "Of course we age. You assume we are born as fully grown adults?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

A cruel smile. "Oh, you didn't?"

I sighed. He was making this difficult. "Are you immortal? I mean, how do you look the same as you did fifteen years ago?"

"Our aging progression slows down upon reaching adulthood. Human legends call us immortal, but they are false. Most of us choose to enter the deep sleep eventually instead of dying of age and disease."

Oh. I gulped a large sip of wine. "What are you, really?" I blurted out before immediately being horrified that I'd made such an uncouth statement. "Sorry," I apologized, "I didn't mean that—Amer said something about Astars, and…you're clearly different from one another-"

A small smile played on his lips. "Humans have called us Fae, Elf, Djinn, Raksha, Yaojing, Zahhak, and many other terms, but we cannot be classified as any particular one of these beings. We have our own names for one another."

"Amer said something about Deimos being worried that you would surpass his power with my help."

The Goblin King rested his head on the backrest, as he slowly took a sip of the glowing, amber liquid in his glass. "Deimos sits as the first High King of the Dark Court," he said slowly. "He has always been somewhat displeased that I refuse to join him in his various depravities at court, and only attend once a year. He is using your presence as a pretense to cause turmoil in the court," distaste clearly evident in his voice. "The prudent course of action would be for us to await the completion of the binding ceremony."

"So you refused his summons?" I asked.

"No." The Goblin King's face broke out into a toothy grin, "I asked the Silver Lady to go in my stead. Deimos finds her…unnerving. She is one of the few remaining great warriors of the Court Wars." He stood up languidly, brushing unseen lint off of his jacket lapels. "Shall we?" he asked, extended a hand. 'Enough questions for tonight' was left unsaid.

I placed my now empty wine goblet on the table, my head lightly buzzing from the alcohol. I wasn't exactly a lightweight, but the magical training session today had worn me out. I took his hand, bracing for the icy wind to tear through me.

We landed outside my door in a flash.

"You were not so afraid this time." He sounded just the teeniest bit impressed.

"I'm getting used to it, I guess," I said, turning to push my door open. I could feel the intensity of his gaze burn my skin, tiny hairs on my neck stood up.

Just as I was about to turn around, he laughed softly. "Perhaps you will dream of me again."

My cheeks turned red as heat crept up my face.

So he had noticed.

I whirled around in anger to see that he had already turned his back on me and was walking down the stone corridor. "Bite me," I retorted. Childish but effective.

He stopped abruptly. Tilting his head, he slowly turned around, a frighteningly wicked smile on his lips. "Was that an invitation?"

I rolled my eyes. "In your dreams."

The Goblin King stood very, very still, "perhaps in yours?" he asked, his voice deceivingly soft.

I threw up my hands. "Whatever," I said, "I'll see you tomorrow." With that, I walked into my room and shut the door.

\--

_I made my way slowly into the swarm of masked dancers, making sure I didn't trip in my monstrosity of a dress. The corseted bodice was heavily decorated with brocade and the skirt bellowed out around my legs as if it were a giant bell. The sleeve caps of my dress were ridiculously puffy, but did not quite reach my shoulders, leaving them bear. My hair had been tightly coiled on top of my head in an elaborate design, held up by strings of pearls and hair clips made of raw crystals. Heavy earrings made of silver and gold weighed down my ears._

_A slow melancholy melody played while the dancers twirled across the floor. I shivered as I felt a chill of cold air on my bare shoulders._

_What was I doing here?_

_I tried asking one of the dancers to tell me what was going on, but she took no notice of me as she spun with the music, her body tightly wound against her partner's._

_Where was I?_

_"Excuse me. Can someone hear me?" I all but screamed, hoping one of them would stop._

_They continued their mad ballet, oblivious to my predicament._

_"They are not real," his baritone voice vibrated against my ears. "Silly Sarah," he mocked._

_Where was he?_

_The dance had become more intense as the dancers pressed against each other harder. Next to me, a woman with long red hair, her face covered with a fox mask, danced with her partner, a man with flaxen hair, his face covered in with a mask resembling a ram. She bent her head back as her partner lay soft kisses down her neck and onto the swell of her breasts._

_I turned away._

_His laughter thudded against my ears. "Still the shy little girl, aren't you?"_

_I turned around, but he wasn't there._

_The red haired woman had pulled one of her sleeves down her arm, exposing a naked breast, her nipple peaking against the cold chill in the air. Her partner ran his fingers slowly against her beast, nail scraping over her nipple ever so slightly—it was enough to make her gasp._

_I jumped out of my skin as I felt strong arms envelope me from the back. He lowered his hands along my arms and rested them on either side of my hips before spinning me around to face him. He wore a midnight blue jacket that reached his knees with matching leather pants. On his face was a bone mask of a bull, its great horns reached high above his head, spiraling into sharp points._

_"You," I gasped. "Get me out of here." I pleaded helplessly as he took my hands and slowly urged my body into dancing to the music._

_The man in the ram mask had taken off his shirt, his muscles glistened as droplets of sweat ran down his body. The woman had pulled down her dress and was dancing naked against him. His arousal was evident as her gracefully long fingers massaged him through his loose trousers._

_"I didn't take you to be a voyeur, Sarah," he mocked, his voice lazy and slow. His hands were on my bare shoulders, fingers tracing patterns against my skin._

_I looked at him, begging him to take me away. "Please."_

_He laughed, not a hint of sympathy in his voice. Sharp teeth gleamed against crystal light as his lips settled into a derisive smirk._

_"So very theatrical," he mused, his voice scathing. "This is not real, Sarah."_

_My eyes widened in question as I looked at him._

_He sighed, as if he were explaining things to a very dim child. "We are in your dream."_

_"My dream?" I asked, mutely._

_I looked around the room at the dancers, now at various stages of undress. My eyes drifted back to the woman next to me—she was now leaning against the crystal wall, eyes closed, head tilted to the side, as her partner held one of her legs behind the knee and slowly lifted it up._

_"I remember this delicious dream of yours. It's the very same dream you had fifteen years ago when you ran the Labyrinth," he whispered into my ear, his breath hot against my neck. His hands grasped my shoulders, holding me in place as I watched the dancers in front of me engage in intimate acts. I felt his lips move against my neck._

_"I don't remember that dream being this…depraved" I protested._

_A sardonic laugh burst out from his lips, vibrating against my ear. "You were too young to notice."_

_I tried turning around to face him but his steel like grasp held me in place, my back against his torso. The red haired woman was moaning now, mewling almost, as her partner teased her slowly with his hands, his thumb slowly encircling the bundle of nerves between her legs. My dress suddenly felt heavy, the gauzy fabric scratched against my skin and the brocade made me hot. My core felt hot as I felt moisture and slickness pool between my legs._

_"Jareth," my voice came out in a whisper as I struggled to get out of his steely grasp._

_"You said my name," he spoke into my ear, "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten."_

_"You need to let me out of this debauched dream," I hissed._

_"This is your dream, Sarah dearest," he mocked, "I only came in because I was invited."_

_I had invited him, hadn't I? I wanted to throttle myself._

_The fox-masked woman had her hands raised high against the wall, as if they were bound by invisible shackles. Her partner still held onto her leg that was raised against the wall—his eyes locked into hers as he slowly kneeled against her body._

_"If I recall correctly, you also invited me to bite you." I jumped when he whispered against my ear._

_The woman shrieked in pleasure as her partner teased her core with his tongue. I saw a slight flash of teeth as he nipped at her folds. She writhed against the wall._

_"Unfortunately, you didn't specify where," he teased. Between his words and the wanton display next to me, I felt undone._

_"I beg of you Jareth, please get me out of here." Not one of my best moments, but any second more in this place, I'd most likely fuck him._

_"Offer me something in return, Sarah dearest."_

_Wicked. He was so deploringly wicked. "Name something," I snapped._

_"Fortunately for you, I do have something in mind." His hands traveled down my arms, the trail scorching my skin. "You will swear fealty to me and become a subject of the Goblin Kingdom tomorrow. You will do so without creating a ruckus."_

_Ruckus creator…who me?_

_The ram-masked man was teasing his lover with his fingers and mouth, bringing her to the brink of release and letting it go. I could hear her begging him to let her come._

_"Alright," I hissed. "Promise me you'll never come into my dreams again."_

_He chuckled. "No, my dearest. I will let this particular invite pass." His lips moved against the skin of my ear, deceptively soft like his voice. "If you are foolish enough to invite me again, I intend to take advantage of your foolishness."_

_The man in the ram mask stood up, his hands clasped her hands above her head. Her eyes glazed over in passion before clenching shut as he entered her and they moved in a slow rhythm._

_"Fine, just get me out of here."_

_I could hear their cries of release when the dancers faded out of the room, leaving the crystal room empty apart from the two of us._

_He turned me around slowly, hands on either side of my hips. "You could have shut your eyes you know."_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"If you are as…traumatized as you pretend to be, you would have closed your eyes. Instead, Sarah dearest, you chose to keep them open." His lips twisted in a small smirk._

_I opened my mouth and shut it. He was correct. What in the world was wrong with me?_

_"You said you'd get me out of here," I said, refusing answer his unasked question._

_A sardonic chuckle. "By your leave," he said bowing slightly. The giant bull horns on his mask nearly grazed my skin._

I awoke with a start. The bed sheets were soaked with my sweat and arousal. The smell of leather and pinecones lingered in the air.

Giving myself a mental kick, I vowed that I would always, always think twice before saying anything, no matter how insignificant, to the Goblin King.

\--

Cryen and Xia walked me to the Great Hall for breakfast. I was slowly beginning to understand the passages and hallways of the massive castle. The maids had frowned at my attire but said nothing—I wore my other pair of jeans with the same pair of boots and a thick grey sweater. I let my hair fall against my shoulders instead of pinning it into a bun like the day before. I had ended up with a massive headache after training in magic and I wanted to avoid that tonight.

Like the day before, Cryen and Xia left almost immediately after we reached the Great Hall. His Highness sat at the head, but he was not studying a document today. Instead, he had leaned sideways against his chair and was gazing at the snow covered horizon.

I walked over to my place and took a seat. There was a dish made of oats, blueberries, and yoghurt along with fruits and a steaming cup of tea.

"Good morning, Sarah."

"Offer me something in return, Sarah dearest."

Heat crept up my face as I remembered his words from my dream…remembered exactly what I had wanted to do with him.

Deciding to take the fake it till you make it approach, I replied "Morning!" in a bright and chirpy voice. I stuffed a spoonful of the yoghurt dish into my mouth.

"You shall complete the fealty oath after breakfast, in my private study. I will escort you for your training session afterwards."

Just like that, the Goblin King of a few words was back. I sighed a breath of relief.

"Hello, hello," Amer boomed as he appeared in a flash of flames and slumped down on the table. His enormous breakfast appeared on the table, taking up an expansive space. "I'm off to the barracks today—goblin army duty," he grumbled, clearly annoyed.

"Is that so bad?" I asked him, eyes wide, as if it was the most interesting topic I'd ever heard of.

He sighed as he took a bite of roasted tomatoes. "Not really. The blasted creatures have powerful magic that could be harnessed well during battle. Getting them to train though is a momentous task." He turned to look at me and frowned. "You look drained Lady Sarah, did you not sleep well?"

My face felt so hot, I'm sure it had turned a deep shade of crimson. Jareth tilted his head at me, a wicked grin on his face. "It must be the training," I mumbled, suddenly very interested in my bowl of yoghurt and oats.

Amer raised his brows and looked from me to Jareth and back to me. "Whatever's going on between the two of you, I distinctly do not want to know," he said with a decided shrug as he continued eating his mammoth sized breakfast with ease. The built up tension seeped out of the room, erased by his easy behavior.

"Good morning, everyone!" A highly energetic Daemora greeted us, dashing into the great hall. She sat down next to Amer. "Looking forward to your training, Lady Sarah?" she asked, placing copious amounts of butter on a large piece of bread.

I sighed. "I hope I have a better success rate today, the ceremony is in two days."

She flashed me a smile, "I'm sure you will do much better today," she said with a remarkable amount of confidence in her voice.

I smiled back. "I certainly appreciate your optimism," I said.

Jareth rose from his seat suddenly. "Are you done with breakfast, Sarah?" his voice was deceptively polite.

"Yes," I replied, getting up as well.

"Ready?" he asked, extending a leather clad hand. "I'll escort Sarah to the practice room in some time, Daemora," he said to the princess.

"Don't take too long, cousin Jareth, I've made a lesson plan for today," she quipped.

Jareth chuckled. "I shall be as quick as I can."

With that we disappeared into a storm of ice and wind.

\--

We arrived in a sunlit room encased with thousands of books, much like the room in which I'd met the Silver Lady. However, while her study had been dark, this one had a ceiling made of crystal, letting in copious amounts of daylight. The bookshelves were made of single slabs of wood and they rose high into the ceiling. There was a smaller fire place to the side along with a large dark wooden desk that seemed to have a large document open.

"Take a seat."

I sat down on a plushy couch by the fire and turned to him, as if to say 'see, I can follow instructions without causing a ruckus.'

Walking over to his massive desk, Jareth picked up a golden knife—it looked like the knives I had admired in the armory. He stalked slowly across the room and sat down across from me. He looked at me intently, "you have to swear fealty to me and mean it. In return, I will offer you my protection."

"Okay…"

"I will protect you with my life should the situation call for it." His dual eyes were fixed onto mine.

I stared at him for a heartbeat. "I thought swearing fealty meant I'm supposed to protect you with my life should the situation call for it."

A mocking smile on his lips. "Yes. I altered the contract specifically for you."

Running a nervous hand through my hair, I gaped at him. "Why?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Consider it a concession for all of your troubles."

"Thank you." I meant it.

"Give me your hand, Sarah."

I extended my right hand tentatively, looking at him, I bit my lip in anticipation.

The King's eyes darkened a shade. With a flash of gold, he cut a clear line through my palm. Crimson liquid pooled out slowly from the line. His eyes never leaving mine, he led me to the desk and squeezed my hand until crimson droplets fell onto the document, my fealty contract I suppose, that was sitting on the desk. The paper absorbed my blood but remained unstained. Taking off one of his gloves, he ran his index finger along the cut on my hand—it healed leaving a faint scar.

With a flash of gold, he cut a similar line on his own palm and squeezed his blood onto the contract. The document disappeared the minute it absorbed his blood, leaving the massive desk empty.

"That's all?" I asked.

"What did you expect?" he asked.

My eyebrows furrowed. I don't know, but I hadn't expected it to be so easy. "I thought I'd have to swear my soul to you or some such."

The Goblin King laughed before extending his hand, which was gloved once again. "Your expectations are quite amusing. I shall take you to practice, Daemora has a lesson plan lined up for you."

I smiled lightly, "should I be afraid?"

"Certainly. She's the most dangerous of us all."

I laughed at that before holding his hand and becoming one with the icy wind.


	6. The Bone Priestesses

My muscles cried with relief as I sunk into the cerulean blue water of the hot spring that was situated deep inside the castle. Jareth had been correct, I should have been afraid. Two days of training with Daemora had been a far more rigorous affair than I could ever have imagined. The tiny silver haired princess had a tremendous amount of energy and she pushed me till I could not stand up on my feet. I hadn't seen much of His Highness during these two days, which was good as he would have only served to distract me. Leaning against the jagged rocks on the edge, I closed my eyes.

"We could still practice some more, Lady Sarah," Daemora called from the other end of the pool. "Let's try sieving magic from the water-"

I groaned. "No," I cut in, my eyes remained shut. "I do not have an ounce of energy left. I think I'll take my chances and hope for the best tomorrow."

I had received a vast amount of magical training in a very short period of time—magic, as it turned out, was a natural element found in well, literally every naturally occurring thing in the realm of the Underground. Ironically enough, magic followed the same law of conservation for mass and energy: magic could not be created nor destroyed, it could only flow from one element to another. Most magical beings were conductors who could take the magic out of their surroundings and utilize it. Silver Bearers were the only beings who could generate magic internally within themselves. However, Silver Bearers were very low in numbers and the Goblin Kingdom was the most sparsely populated land in all of the Underground. So while Jareth could kill Deimos because he was more powerful, the Goblin Kingdom could not fight off the entire Agean army.

My body turned out to be a natural absorber of magic—I was also able to sieve without too much difficulty. Deflection was a different matter, I had a tough time shielding myself from harmful or large amounts of magic. My weakest element was fire, I had faint burn marks on my skin from failing to deflect a large amount of fire magic. Amer's advice had been to 'fan the flames and absorb the heat.' I had had a difficult time following through as I started panicking immediately when the burning sensation became strong. Still, I had practiced as much as I could and there was nothing else to be done.

"I suppose that's alright," the princess relented. "I hope we host a celebration feast when you complete the binding ceremony!" She chattered quickly jumping from one subject to another as she often did, "this castle is always so empty and dull. My austere cousin doesn't keep a court here, says he's perfectly happy with his lords and ladies looking after their own lands and tenants instead of living under his roof and getting on his nerves." Pausing for a breath, she gathered her hair onto one side and rinsed the water out.

"Sounds like him," I said, almost smiling.

Daemora rolled her eyes. "We do not even hold celebration feasts for festivals like they do in other kingdoms. I do not care for celebrating each and every minor festival, but we could, at least, hold a yearly feast for the Long Night." She looked at me, as if expecting to agree with her outrage.

"How tyrannical," I offered, I did smile this time.

She gave me a look as if to say 'you don't know the half of it.' "I'm so happy you're here Lady Sarah," she said earnestly, "it's nice to have female companionship."

"Likewise," I replied, "You're definitely the nicest member of the King's family. In fact, I'm surprised that you're even a part of his family."

She laughed at that. "I suppose mother comes across even harsher than him" She looked away, lost in thought. "She wanted me to become a warrior like her, the next Silver Lady of the Goblin Kingdom, but I never grew tall," she said, grimacing a bit.

I raised my brows, it was very difficult imaging Daemora as a warrior. "Did you want to be a warrior?"

"Heavens no," Daemora said, her icy blue eyes wide. "I tried training for battle my thirteenth year, but that ended in disaster." She shuddered. "There was a skirmish at the border with Nastrondis, a minor Nastrondisian lord had gone rogue and started attacking one of our villages. Amer took me along for field training. I hurled my guts and fainted when he ripped his sword through the lord's torso and his organs fell onto the ground. The stomach was completely ruptured."

My eyes widened at the imagery. I tried coming to terms with living in a world where teaching thirteen-year-old girls how to rip a man's guts apart was normal. "That's when you stopped training to be a warrior?" I asked.

"Oh no," Daemora replied with a shake of her head, "I kept trying for a few more years, hoping my aversion would die out but it never did. I stopped fainting, but could not stop hurling."

Well. "This world is very harsh," I conceded. And that was an understatement.

"I trained in magic after that—I have not been able to master magic wielded in battle, but my healing and purifying abilities are quite good." She sounded forlorn.

She certainly had the personality for healing and not destroying. I didn't tell her this fearing she might take it as an insult. "You were a great magic teacher," I said, hoping to cheer her up "you've increased my chances of surviving, I'm sure."

She looked at me fiercely. "You will definitely survive, Lady Sarah." Conviction burned in her eyes.

I offered a tired smile in return before getting up to head to my room for the night.

The morning started with a rush as Cryen and Xia quickly ushered me towards the bathroom. They helped me put on a long flowing sleeveless white robe, held up at the shoulders with silver clasps. I wore a bellowing gray woolen cloak with bell sleeves on top of the dress. The two silver women fussed over my hair, arranging it in multiple braids before coiling it on top of my head. To my surprise, they used no pins—how they got my thick, straight hair to cooperate in that complicated style was beyond me.

Daemora barged into my room, her hair flying in all directions as she ran towards me. Thrusting a silver bracelet in my hand, she paused to catch her breath. "Cousin Jareth asked me to give you this," she said in between breaths.

I raised my brows.

"It's got healing potential," she explained. "It's mostly his magic, but I wove a few protections in as well."

Okay.

"Here, I do not have much time," she said. Without waiting for my response, she opened a delicate clasp and fitted the bracelet around my wrist. "I will see you at the Clearing," she said, whirling around and running out my room just as quickly as she had entered it.

I did not have much time to examine the silver bracelet as the Silver Lady and Amer sifted next to the entrance to my room.

The Silver Lady was dressed in a robe like mine, but instead of a cloak, she wore an intricately carved silver armor and a gleaming sword was strapped on her side. There was no mistaking that she was a warrior. Amer was dressed in a plain white shirt and loose black trousers—he had his usual array of weapons with him, but no armor.

"I have come to wish you good fortunes, Defeater of the Labyrinth," Amer spoke, nodding his head and bowing slightly.

I frowned. "You won't be there?"

He laughed warmly. "Some customs of this land are too foreign for me to appreciate," he said.

"The High General considers our Bone Priestesses to be too…barbaric," the Silver Lady added, her deep voice was as regal as I remembered.

Bone Priestesses?

"Not at all, Silver Lady," Amer said with a twinkle in his amber eyes. "I merely keep my distance from Beina Nae because she reminds me of the witch of my childhood nightmares."

Beina Nae? Witch of nightmares?

The tall silver woman laughed deeply, "The head priestess can be intimidating. Come Defeater, the Bone Priestesses await your arrival at the Clearing" she said, extending a silver gloved hand—the metal moved along with fingers, as if it had taken on a liquid state.

I looked at Amer, not knowing what to say. 'See you soon, hopefully.' 'What the hell are Bone Priestesses and why do you think they are barbaric?' 'Thanks for having been so nice to me.' In the end, I settled for a simple good bye. "Bye Amer," I said and took the Silver Lady's hand and braced myself for the flurry of icy wind that followed.

The Clearing was a large field somewhere deep within the walls of the Labyrinth. The walls around us ran high into the sky and were covered with thick vines and thorns. At the center of the arena stood a monolithic stone column. I could feel the grass tickle my feet as fresh dew seeped into my skin, it occurred to me that I didn't have any shoes on.

At the very edge of the field stood a tall wooden dais. There were various silver haired people sitting on the raised platform—I did not recognize any of them apart from Daemora. She too was dressed in the combination of robes and armor.

"Good fortunes, Defeater," The Silver Lady said, nodding at me before walking over to join the rest of the audience on the dais.

I stood there for a second, completely bewildered. What the hell was I supposed to do next? I could feel my sarcastic sense of humor bubble in my thoughts to keep my panic at bay—Couldn't these people at least have the courtesy of giving me instructions before sending me off to uncertain death?!

I looked around, trying to find someone for instructions when I locked eyes with the Goblin King. He wore the mask of a bull skull that had been smoothened with black lacquer, the horns reached for the sky, like sharp, twisted spirals—just as I had seen in my dream. His mismatched gaze fell onto the bracelet fastened on my wrist.

"Come here, Sarah."

Trying to maintain my heartbeat at a steady rhythm, I walked over to him. He placed his hands on my shoulders and slowly slid the woolen cloak to the ground. There was a slight murmuring coming from the dais. The temperature at the Clearing was not as cold as the castle, the breeze felt warm against my bare arms.

The Goblin King held out his hand, and I took it, walking with him to the monolithic stone. He placed me next to the column, my back leaned against the cool stone. Leaning into me he whispered "Good fortunes."

He left me there and joined the rest of the silver haired beings on the dais. I couldn't help but look at him as he made his way up the wooden steps and into the seating area. Instead of sitting down, Jareth raised a massive silver goblet. "Thank you for your sacrifice, mortal Sarah Williams," he said, loud enough to echo through the arena, as he took a sip and sat down.

Panic engulfed my senses full circle.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Did he say sacrifice? My heart rate that I'd kept under control until then, skyrocketed, beating like a frenzied drum. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a line of women coming towards me. I had to make an effort not to bolt far away from them when they neared me.

The woman at the head of the line was as tall as the Silver Lady, she wore a mask made of a bull skull, just like the King's only smaller in size. The skull wasn't finished with lacquer but looked fresh—there were bits of decayed flesh and skin clinging to a few crevices and crooks. Behind her were smaller women with limbs painted silver, like Cryen and Xia. They wore calf skull masks on their faces, also relatively fresh—one of the masks had a chunk of decayed flesh hanging from it. I felt sick.

The Bone Priestesses stood in a line in front of me, facing the dais—the head priestess raised her arms high over her head, indicating that the ceremony had begun, I suppose. She then started singing, her voice high and melodic, in a language I did not understand. I tried getting my heart to slow down as she continued.

Two of the lesser priestesses came towards me with a circular object made of bone and covered in vine. Looking at me intently with their icy blue eyes, they placed the thing on my head. Bowing at me, they returned to their positions on the line.

I could feel small thorns of the ivy poke against the skin on my forehead. I was about to shut my eyes when the singing stopped. The Goblin King rose, looking directly into my eyes he raised his goblet again as the small crowd around him cheered.

The head priestess bowed, her head almost touching the grass—paying homage to her King. Rising slowly, she turned towards me, her iridescent eyes glowing through the eyeholes of the mask.

She tilted her head as she looked at me, "mortal Sarah Williams," she said, I could feel her power as her ethereal voice slithered against my skin. "A great honor has been bestowed upon you," she said, placing her hand on my forehead. I shivered against her icy cold palm. I could not understand the rest of what she said—she spoke in a language I did not understand and raised her arms once more. The crowd in the dais cheered.

There were drums playing in the background, building up to a crescendo but not quite reaching it.

I could hear a mild bleating sound in the background and turned to see that some of the lesser priestesses had a small white lamb in their hands. Widening my eyes, I turned to look at the King, sitting on the dais, looking at me with his mismatched eyes. This was wrong. Every instinct in my body said this was wrong.

The head priestess took the tiny lamb in her arms. The creature shook its head in frenzied panic and tried kicking its legs, trying to escape. The panic in its eyes mirrored my own as I could feel a single tear roll down my face. The head priestess held a gold knife—much like the knife Jareth had used for my fealty oath, against the lamb's throat. I turned my head away but could hear the poor animal cry for its life, fighting with its very last breath, trying to survive.

One of the lesser priestesses took the bleeding animal and drew a circle around me with its blood on the ground. I could hear the lamb's struggling cries grow weaker and weaker until it finally stopped. My heart broke for the unfortunate animal.

The second the circle was drawn in the lamb's blood, the head priestess turned her glowing eyes onto me. "Prepare yourself, mortal Sarah Williams," she said, her voice vibrating in my ears, "the power of the Labyrinth comes for you."

I felt eerily calm for a few heartbeats before a gust of powerful wind whipped against me, trying to flatten by body. I felt as if the wind was trying to get into my skin, get into any crevices it could find, and suck the life right out of me.

Struggling to stand, I imagined drifting, just like I had been taught during training. I imagined drifting like a leaf carried away by heavy stormy winds. I swayed on my feet as my hair fought against the confines of the tightly braided coil, trying to break free. I was able to sieve the harsher parts of the wind magic and throw it aside while surfing the lighter parts.

The next part was trickier—water poured through my skin before flowing with a great force through my body. I could feel the rush of currents as water emptied into my throat, filling my lungs. I coughed and heaved until my stomach contents were on the grass next to me. The water, however, was relentless; it kept gathering in a great force and flowing down my body, determined to drown out my lungs.

I screamed soundlessly as I tried getting the force to stop beating against me. Gathering all the strength I could muster, I sieved the force and absorbed half of it while throwing half aside in all directions. The strategy worked well enough to diffuse the strength of the flow. I fell to the ground to my knees, grass staining my white robes. Placing my head in front of my knees, I heaved and heaved until the last of the water had dripped out of my lungs.

I took deep breaths, still on the ground, trying to get my bearings. I was alive—I hadn't been swept away and I hadn't drowned—that gave me some reassurance that I would survive the rest of the trail. Taking some more deep breaths, I braced myself for fire and ligt, from my training, I took ligt to be a cross between electricity and energy. Daemora had explained it as some form of lightning force.

I screamed in pain when the fire storm came—it felt like I was being hit by a blazing force of lightning again, and again, and again. I was being burned alive, except that there were no flames. I cried, I begged for the pain to stop, to no avail. The silver haired beings sat on the raised platform, their faces impassive.

Taking a deep gulp of air, I tried fighting back as I sieved the fire and ligt with all of my strength, trying to fan the flames and absorb the glow, just as Amer had instructed. I succeeded a bit before being blasted with a barrage of lightning strikes, trying to deflect them all at once.

I failed.

I smelled the sweet smell of burning flesh and singed hair—my stomach heaving as I realized that it was most likely my flesh and hair that were burning. I heaved, hurling out some water from my stomach—I had hurled so much during the course of this ceremony that I had nothing left to throw up. The smell got so sickeningly sweet that I could not take it anymore—it would be so much easier to shut my eyes and let sleep take over.

"Fight for me, Sarah." I heard his voice inside my head. Pleading with me, begging me to hold on.

With all the strength I could muster, I turned to the dais to look at the Goblin King only to find that he was not there. "Good bye, Jareth," I thought serenely and closed my eyes. I felt the warm hum of his magic envelope me even as I struggled to stay on the brink of consciousness.

"Fight for me, Sarah."

My breathing quickened just a tad before I gathered the little strength that I could and sieved with as much energy as I had—I sieved the harmful parts of fire away and basked in the warmth of the flame. I drank in the energy of the ligt, and felt the remnants buzzing out from my fingertips.

The smell of burning flesh overwhelmed my senses as I struggled to keep my eyes open. My legs refused to support themselves as my knees were firmly planted against the grass. I heaved and heaved until the involuntary muscles in my stomach and esophagus gave out. I knew I was going to lose consciousness any second so I gathered whatever strength I had left and sieved the fire and ligt until I could sieve no more.

"You survived…fight to stay alive" I heard one last time before I faded into unconsciousness.

-Interlude-

"How is she?"

The dark haired man gave his King a look of disbelief before answering "she is alive."

The King, barely conscious himself, shook his head. "How. Is. She. Amer?"

The dark haired man sighed, running a hand through his curly locks, "she has survived—Daemora is healing her as we speak."

The King sighed as he leaned against a velvet lined arm chair. It had been almost a whole day since the binding ceremony had ended. Sarah had been unconscious throughout the entire time. He took a sip of ale. "Good."

The dark haired man turned his amber eyes on the King, his brows furrowed into his forehead. "You could have died," he said softly.

The King raised a sardonic brow. "That would have happened eventually, anyway." He took a swig of the ale.

"What have you done?"

"I bound her to the Labyrinth. I also tied her life into mine in the fealty contract—hence, I got affected when she…almost died."

The midnight black haired man's eyebrows shot up in shock. "You could have died. You have a duty to your people-"

"I already had this wonderful conversation with the Silver Lady."

The amber eyed man looked at the King for a few minutes before replying "Why would you do something like that?"

The King winced in pain as he sat up, "Ensuring her survival means avoiding war—which, in turn, means keeping my duty to my people."

"I thought the Labyrinth's curse was for you to bear?"

Laughing dryly, the King sighed. "Of course. But I need to make sure she will stay once she learns how the Labyrinth renews its power."

"You could have asked her."

Raising a mocking brow, the King grinned at his general. "Would you agree to accept the role if you knew the curse of the Labyrinth?" he asked.

The General turned away. He would never have voluntarily accepted such a role.


	7. Magical Suitors

It took me a week to recover from the injuries I had incurred during the binding ceremony, the burns being the worst. Fortunately Daemora had worked with the official castle healer, a tall but delicate woman, Eires, to ensure that all my scars faded.

I had a particularly nasty scar that ran diagonally from my collar bone to my hip bone—that one remained, however faint, to remind me of what I went through. Fortunately, my hair had not burned like I had imagined, the complicated braided coil had saved it.

The Labyrinth's magic had been ruthless. From what I understood, it had burned through and dislodged some of my internal organs, and broken a number of bones. I was told I was fortunate that the wind did not rip my skin apart or rupture my veins as it had for most other humans. I did not get the full picture as Eires used medical terms I did not understand, but I took it to mean that I had survived something akin to being hit by a semi. At full speed.

I received a few visits from Amer and the Silver Lady but the Goblin King kept his distance—which was good. I would have jumped out of bed and pummeled him for not warning me how brutal the ceremony would be. I suppose he had his reasons, if I was consumed by panic I may not have fought back at all.

And he had fought to keep me alive.

"Fight for me, Sarah."

Had I heard his voice in my head or had I dreamed it? Had I felt his magic envelope me?

Today was the first day I was able to step out of my room and eat breakfast in the Great Hall. As usual, Cryen and Xia helped me bathe and dress myself, they seemed relieved that I had gotten over my initial shyness. I suppose it was mostly out of necessity, I hadn't been able to lift my arms for the first few days and I had slipped in and out of consciousness.

I opted for my usual outfit, jeans tucked into boots with a heavy sweater. Frowning as I noticed some cloaks and jackets that were not there before, I turned to look at the two silver maids. The cloaks were mostly minimal with a few embroidered designs on the neck and the sleeves; the jackets may as well have come from imperial Russia. They were heavily embroidered, jeweled and sequined without looking ostentatious.

"Why are these here?" I asked.

They looked at each other before Cryen spoke, "they are yours, Lady Sarah."

Well. I knew that. "I did not ask for them."

They looked at each other again, confused. "Do you not like them, shall we ask the seamstress to create something else?"

"No," I protested quickly. I had to be very literal when speaking to them, or anyone else here for that matter. "I did not ask for these, so why did the seamstress create them in the first place?"

Xia spoke this time. "The King commissioned your wardrobe. The seamstress has been working tirelessly to complete it in a month's time."

I clenched my teeth. "Really?"

They raised their brows, probably thinking I was demented to get angry about getting a new wardrobe. "Yes…?" there was a slight question at the end of Xia's voice.

"Ask her to stop because I will not use any of it."

"The seamstress was ordered directly by the King."

Of course she was.

"Fine," I said, trying to keep anger out of my voice. It wasn't their fault the seamstress was working tirelessly to complete some fantasy wardrobe for someone who wasn't interested in having one. "I'll tell the King to rescind his order."

They exchanged another incredulous glance among themselves. "We shall escort you to breakfast." This time, they spoke in unison. It was a bit freaky.

"I can find the Great Hall, I'll go myself," I offered. The Silver Lady had informed me that the enchantment that kept me to my room had vanished once I signed the fealty oath and I was now allowed to roam the castle freely.

"But, the King-"

"The King will accept that I'm a grown adult and not a child," I cut in, smiling slightly as their eyes widened. I ushered them out of my room and shut the door behind me. "I'll deal with him—it's not your problem," I tried reassuring them.

They relented.

The King sat at the head of the table, his wild hair spreading around his head like a halo. He turned towards me the second I entered the Great Hall, like he knew I was going to be there.

"You've come alone," his voice flooded the room.

"I am capable of walking down hallways and corridors by myself," I said, walking towards the table.

My bravado lessened a bit as I neared him. As harmless as he seemed sitting down for breakfast, he was the same Goblin King who had donned the horrifying bull mask, the same Goblin King who had lifted the ceremonial goblet as the crowd around him cheered, and the same Goblin King who had sacrificed me to the Labyrinth. I forced my breathing to slow down as I sat down in my place, to his side.

I could feel the intensity of his gaze. "You are well." It wasn't a question.

Not bothering to look up, I replied evenly, "So it would seem." I bit into a strawberry, relishing the sweet taste after eating, what felt like, mush for the last week.

His blazing eyes never left my face. "Are you well?"

Well, well. The Goblin King had finally deigned to ask a question.

I turned towards him, forcing myself not to flinch when I looked into his eyes. "I'm feeling quite well today, thanks," I said, "which reminds me, I have to return this to you." I placed the silver bracelet on the table, next to his plate. "Thanks for that, I'm sure whatever healing protection you put in it was part of what kept me alive."

He looked at the thin silver trinket before looking at me. "It's yours, Sarah," he said quietly.

I pursed my lips, the anger that I had bottled-up came bubbling to the surface. "It's a consolation prize for being burned alive, is it?" I asked keeping my voice as sweet as I could.

"Yes," he replied, his deep voice sounded slightly amused. "Look at it as a token of my…generosity." In the blink of an eye the bracelet was fastened around my wrist.

I let that go, the bracelet wasn't worth fighting over. "Cryen and Xia tell me you've commissioned the seamstress to create a wardrobe for me."

"Yes."

"You can decommission it."

He raised a brow. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I have my own clothes."

The Goblin King smiled his mocking smile. "As the vessel of the Labyrinth, you represent my kingdom. More importantly, you represent me. While your clothes may have been…perfectly adequate for your fascinating life in the human realm, they will not be appropriate here."

I raised my brows. "You're saying my clothes aren't good enough to represent you?" I asked incredulously, my voice getting louder with each word.

I had almost died. And all he cared about was making sure I looked presentable enough for him to parade me around. I fought to keep my anger under control.

"Yes."

"You are an absolute bastard, I hope you know that," I said viciously. I did not care if he threw me into an oubliette—if I could survive the damn binding ceremony, I could surely survive a few days in an oubliette.

The Goblin King bared his pointy teeth gave a full throated laugh. "Oh Sarah, you state the obvious."

I was going to kill him.

"Children," Amer said loudly as he entered the Great Hall, a grin on his face. "Behave yourselves." I had a feeling he had heard most of our conversation. "It's good to see you on your feet, Lady Sarah, I trust you have recovered?"

"Yes, but I still have to visit Eires every day," I said, relieved that he came in when he did.

Sitting at his usual place, Amer smiled at the Goblin King. "You promised to conduct yourself with dignity befitting a King," he chided.

The Goblin King raised a laconic brow "where's the fun in that?"

Amer sighed and looked at me, his eyes twinkling. "Ignore His Highness. He commissioned a wardrobe for you because he has sent a formal declaration to all kingdoms and territories, introducing you as the vessel of the Labyrinth. We will have to present you to the Dark Court eventually—but before that, there will no doubt be visitors from neighboring kingdoms who will come here to…study you."

Study me…like researchers studied animals on National Geographic?!

"I don't see why I cannot wear my own clothes."

Amer looked at the Goblin King before looking back at me. "Lady Sarah, whether you feel this to be acceptable or not, those in power in the Underground will judge you based on attire and appearance. The wise course of action would be to give them the impression that the King values you."

I was fine with the first half of the explanation: people judging each other based on attire and appearance existed in the human realm as well. The latter half however, was disturbing. "Why is it important for people to assume that the King values me?"

Smiling grimly, Amer replied, "based on the questions you ask, I assume that the world you come from is vastly different from the Underground. The various leaders here can be cruel, Lady Sarah, far crueler than you can imagine—all of them, including Deimos, fear the King of the Goblin Kingdom. If these leaders do not believe that you are valued by an entity they fear, they will most definitely try and cause you harm. A powerful beast in the forest will prey on a lesser beast, that is the nature of humans and that is our nature as well."

Jesus. My eyes were wide and my mouth was slightly open.

"While the King," Amer said, giving him a chastising look, "has been an ass to you at times…"

Said ass sat languidly back in his chair and raised an eyebrow and took a bite out of a ripened peach.

"I can safely state that the King does not care too much for appearances."

"Are we singing cousin Jareth's praises?" Princess Daemora asked as she whirled into the room in her usual manner. She sat next to Amer and took a sip of tea that had appeared on the table. "He is honest enough to keep his promises," she said with a slightly wicked gleam in her eyes. "Which is why I know we shall hold a feast to celebrate Lady Sarah's binding ceremony and we shall hold a feast to celebrate the Long Night."

I could have sworn the Goblin King paled a bit. "I believe you are supposed to be at your history lessons at the moment. As for the celebratory feasts in question, I despise large groups of people running around my castle."

Daemora rolled her eyes, "I took a small break; history can be dreadfully dull. The feast shall be held in the Ground Hall, the guests will not have access to the rest of the Castle."

"We shall see."

Winking at me, Daemora smiled sweetly at the King. "Never mind, I take back my words. Cousin Jareth does not keep his promises." She changed the subject quickly, "I came to the Great Hall as soon as I heard you were up, Lady Sarah. I have something really important to ask you." She suddenly looked very seriously.

"Go ahead," I said, my eyebrows raised.

"I have read that humans are very passionate about falling in love and getting married and having lots of children." She looked at me for confirmation.

"Some are, I'm sure," I offered.

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Are you married, Lady Sarah? Were you so upset about being in the Underground because you had to leave your love and children behind?"

I choked on my tea and coughed in a very unladylike manner. "No," I said, "I am definitely not married and I don't have children."

"Then you were being courted by a suitor and you are heartbroken to have left him behind?"

Ye gods.

"I don't know what that means, but I wasn't in a serious relationship at the time."

I was about to ask her why did she think my love life was so important, when she bombarded me with another question. "So you had absolutely no suitor?"

That sounded really depressing.

I sighed, noticing that the men had suddenly become very quiet. "I did go on dates—going to dinner or attending the theatre with a potential suitor," I said, making sure to use words that would be understood. "In modern times, people go on many dates before calling someone a suitor."

Daemora's eyes widened a smidge. "So did you go on many dates with many potential suitors?"

Well, that didn't sound particularly appealing either.

Smiling at the general bizarreness of having this conversation, I replied, "I suppose. Dating apps have made life much easier for dating anyway, not long term relationships." I noticed raised eyebrows. "Dating apps are…" how did one explain the concept of a smart phone "levers you can press and that will give you a list of people around you with similar interests and mutual friends. You can choose to go on a date if you see someone interesting on the list and they agree to it." Judging by the confused expressions surrounding me, that wasn't a good explanation.

"So you press something called an app and a suitor appears out of thin air?"

I snorted as I burst into a fit of laughter while three pairs of curious eyes looked at me for a confirmation. "Not really, but I suppose that explanation works."

"Thank you Lady Sarah, this information is truly helpful," Daemora said, getting up just as quickly as she had sat down. "I have to get back to my lessons." She bolted out of the Great Hall and back to wherever her history lesson was taking place.

Raising my brows, I looked at Jareth and Amer, "truly helpful for what?" I asked.

"For reasons known only to the princess," Amer said, sighing. "I wouldn't put it past her to try her hand at creating a magic app that will make suitors appear out of thin air."

I burst out laughing until my face turned red and tears were streaming down my eyes. "That was certainly the most hilarious conversation I've had in a long time," I said in between breaths. "Good luck to her." I kept laughing until an abrupt wave of nausea hit me and my limbs felt heavy. I suddenly felt very weak, like I didn't have the strength to hold my head up.

Leather clad fingers held my shoulder and hip, lifting me up, not ungently, from the dining chair.

"You need to rest." Jareth's voice rumbled against my ears.

In a flash of icy wind, we sifted from the Great Hall to my room. Blood pounding in my ears, I fought to remain conscious.

He tilted me slowly as one of his hands held my shoulders and the other held the back of my knees. I pressed my head against his chest and heard his heart beating in a slow and steady rhythm. He placed upright me on the bed, my back rested against the massive headboard.

"Drink this," he said, giving me a wooden mug filled with a warm, amber drink. "The mead is not drugged, but it is strong enough to ease your pain and help you sleep."

"Modern day medical professionals do not encourage alcohol to be used as painkillers and sleep aids," I said, mustering up enough sarcasm. Eyeing the drink, I inhaled its delicious scent of wildflowers and honey.

"Sarah." I heard him snarl with frustration, "I am trying to help you."

Congratulations to me. I'd finally managed to elicit an emotional response from him.

I took a slow sip, savoring the taste of cinnamon, honey, and chamomile while he stood next to me and watched me with his mismatched eyes.

"Amer is not wrong. We shall soon be inundated with visitation requests to see the vessel of the Labyrinth. It is imperative that you follow my instructions on how to behave with them, Sarah."

"Okay." I took another sip and slowly felt my pain easing up.

"No arguments?" he sounded genuinely surprised.

"You know what they say: better the devil you know than the devil you don't."

He roared with laughter. "You will continue training in magic as soon as you are able—you need to be able to defend yourself against people who would wish you harm."

I nodded. The mead had started taking effect—I was lightheaded enough that my brain functioning along with my inhibitions had gone awry. "Why are you still here?"

His eyes filled with an unreadable emotion. "I shall wait until you fall asleep."

I eased up against the pillows, turning to one side so I could see him. My vision was getting blurrier by the second. "I understand that I'm useful to you as the vessel and everything, so that keeps you motivated to keep me alive. But why do you…." My thoughts grew jumbled as the effects of the mead grew stronger. "What am I…to you?"

I do not know whether he answered my question as sleep overtook me immediately.

I had not. Had I?

I could not have. Could I?

"What am I to you?"

I had said the words and he had not responded.

Stupid. So fucking stupid. Stupid times infinity.

I got out of bed as the sun was setting in the orange and purple sky, the pale sparkling stars were already visible. I paced back and forth going over the morning's events. I had pretty much laid out my vulnerabilities in front of the ruthless Goblin King.

Trudging into the bathroom, I decided to soak in the tub for a while.

I'd asked him what I meant to him knowing very well that the answer would most likely be nothing. Or worse than nothing—a pawn, a thing to be used, a vessel. I scrubbed my face with my hands, massaging my eyes and my temples, coming to terms with the fact that I knew next to nothing about his feelings for me.

I accepted that I was drawn to him. I was attracted to him like a moth was attracted to a flame: a creature that is mesmerized by the very thing that will most likely cause its death. Pathetic.

The first time I had met the Goblin King he had offered to be my slave, but that had been a ploy hadn't it? The entire 'fear me, love me, and do as I say and I will be your slave' speech had been a ploy to keep my poor defenseless brother and…do with him whatever he did to all the children that were wished away. I shuddered. I hadn't thought about the children at all.

This time around, his goblins had informed me that the King had been angry that I was here, that he was in a rage. The Silver Lady had told me, earnestly, that the Labyrinth had chosen me to be its vessel. And the King…the King had said that, had he wished it, he could have forced me to stay. He clearly hadn't.

I had dreamed of his leather clad fingers touching me, stroking my neck and lips. I had dreamed of him holding me against him as we looked onto two lovers on the dance floor. Even in my dream I had thought about his hands on me, my body. His mouth. His sharp teeth punishing me as I writhed beneath him. I had almost been on the verge of begging him to take me right then and there.

Wrapping myself in a fluffy robe, I stepped out of the bath, still deep in thought. The Goblin King, on the other hand, had never indicated whether he was attracted to me at all. He had always been somewhat suggestive in our exchanges, but nothing beyond that.

But what no one knew is that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl…

Loud knocking on the door made me jump.

"Lady Sarah, are you awake?" I heard Daemora's chiming voice through the heavy wooden door.

"Yes, come in," I answered, sitting down on the small wooden bench next to the row of windows. Each window had a small bench next to it so that the viewer could look onto the massive mountain range that surrounded us outside.

Daemora flung the door open as she strode into the room, her fine silver hair flying in all directions. She frowned when she saw me. "Are you alright, Lady Sarah?"

I kept my expression neutral as I wondered if her damn cousin had opened his sharp toothed mouth and said anything. "Of course."

She sighed, "Good." She sat on a small bench next to me, facing the sunset. "I really hope you are well enough to attend dinner tonight."

"Is there something going on tonight?" I asked, curiously. Dinners before the binding ceremony had mostly been quiet affairs—with the Goblin King and me, sitting together at the atrium or with everyone at the Great Hall.

"Princess Iselin and Lord Egil of Nastrodis will be joining us tonight, Iselin is the Second Princess and Egil is King Oren's High Counselor," Daemora sighed, like she didn't care too much for said Princess Iselin and Lord Egil. "Amer has run off, claiming he has to train some goblins, I'm fairly certain that's a lie, but there's nothing to be done about it. He isn't too fond of Nastrondisians and they are not too fond of him. My mother is back at the Dark Court again."

"I'll be there," I said thoughtfully. I did not know what a Second Princess or High Counselor were but whoever these new people were, they would be a welcome distraction from this morning's affairs.

Daemora beamed. "Great," she said, handing me a small envelope and an ivory colored box. "This is for you. I shall see you in the morning, I have many more questions regarding your suitor app."

"Wait. You won't be there?" I asked.

"I'm too young to be allowed," she said, before turning around and waving her hands. "I shall see you at breakfast tomorrow morning," she said and ran down the hall.

I looked at her small form disappear down the stone corridor. Opening the white envelope, I pulled out a note that was inside.

Wear the dress.

Ask for my permission before leaving.

J

Perfect. Looked like the King was also going with 'pretend nothing happened.'

Eyeing the ivory box suspiciously, I opened it and examined the dress. I was impressed. The dress was a slim, Grecian column dress held up at the shoulders with silver clips. The dress dipped quite low but was otherwise conservative. Two silver belts accompanied the dress—they looked quite complicated.

As if on cue, Cryen and Xia entered my room and helped me dress. I examined my reflection on the mirror after they were done helping me with my clothes and hair. They had fluffed up my already thick hair and clipped two crystal studded barrettes next to my ears—my hair was pulled away from my face but flowed freely down my back.

The first silver belt was fastened around my ribs, right below my breasts, and the second was fastened around my natural waist. I wore my own shoes, a pair of silver gladiator heels that laced up slightly higher than my ankles. Walking all the way to the Great Hall in those was probably not the best idea, but they matched the dress perfectly. I lined the inner rims of my eyes with kohl and coated my lashes with mascara.

Cryen and Xia then helped me get into a long, gauzy jacket that had tiny crystals beads sewn into it, outlining the sleeves and collar.

"Lady Sarah," Xia said with her bell like voice, trying to be somewhat forceful but failing. "You must allow us to escort you to the Great Hall and announce your arrival."

"Fine," I said smiling, "I'll play along…this time."

That made them laugh as we made our way to the Great Hall.


	8. A Strange Proposal

The King turned to look at me when we entered the room. Tilting his head at a slight angle, he assessed my appearance. Sitting at his usual place at the head of the table, he was dressed in a black jacket that was heavily embroidered with spun silver thread, around the collar and cuffs; a blood red shirt peeked out above the collar. He wore slim fitted, plain black pants tucked into calf length black boots. He was not wearing gloves.

There were two gray eyed, flaxen haired people sitting adjacent to him, on Amer's side of the table. I kept my head high and walked slowly across the room as they appraised me, fighting the urge to scuttle quickly to my place. Although they were both sitting down, I could tell they were tall. The woman wore a lavender dress that looked like it was made of thick bands of braided fabric, a section of her hair was arranged in a delicate braid around her face, like a headband. The rest of her hair fell like a wavy waterfall around her shoulders. The man's hair was cut short in a nondescript style, he wore a slate colored jacket and matching pants.

Cryen and Xia hadn't been kidding when they said they would escort me to the Great Hall—they took me right up to the chair that had been pulled out for me at my usual place, adjacent to the Jareth, on the opposite side of the two guests, and announced my arrival.

"Sarah Williams. Defeater and First Vessel of the Labyrinth." They bowed low before leaving the room.

Now, I too had a long, ridiculous title.

"Hello…?" I said, unable to keep the questioning tone out of my voice, as I extended my hand to Iselin. I had no idea what I was supposed to do as Jareth hadn't bothered giving me any instructions apart from 'wear the dress.'

Iselin stared at me, raising a quizzical brow slowly before extending her hand. "Hello," she said, her voice low and throaty.

I repeated the greeting with Egil. He was quicker to shake my hand.

I finally turned to the King, his eyes gleaming with mirth, he seemed to find my behavior amusing. "Your Highness," I said, bowing like I had observed Amer bow to him before. I was surprisingly able to keep emotion out of my voice.

He looked into my eyes for a few seconds before nodding. "Lovely of you to join us." I couldn't tell whether his tone was mocking or sincere. He turned to look at Iselin, "isn't she so…unusual?" he drawled slowly. He turned back to me, his eyes dark. "Allow me," he said, and with a flash my gauzy jacket disappeared.

Three pairs of eyes brushed over me and I could feel my body flush as I prayed to Jesus, Allah, Buddha, the Universe, and every other higher entity that the blush that was creeping up my neck and face would disappear.

"Very." Iselin studied me for a few heartbeats longer before turning her cold gray eyes onto Jareth. "You run your castle in an unorthodox manner, but you must instill some sort of courtly protocol, Jareth. The poor creature does not even know how to greet us."

I could keep from fuming at being called a poor creature, as if I were some wet alley cat. I could.

Jareth smiled slowly, a glint of sharp teeth showing through his lips. "I find it amusing, Iselin," he said, his smile grew more feral, "that you expect courtly protocol in the castle of a cross-bred, bastard king that employs a foreign general to run his army."

I remembered his words from earlier in the day when I'd called him a bastard. He had been amused. "Oh Sarah, you state the obvious."

Iselin paled before laughing throatily. "Your Majesty," she said, no longer calling him by his name, "you are so flippant."

I noticed that Egil did not say anything as he sat back quietly and observed the exchange. Daemora had called him the High Counselor—perhaps his job was to note down everything and report back to Nastrondis. In that was the case, she was there for distraction.

Jareth said nothing, but looked at her, his gaze icily intense. A hint of a smile crossed his lips when she shifted in her seat nervously. He was playing with her obvious discomfort.

"Speaking of your…foreign general, where is the highly esteemed warrior Ameretat today?" Iselin asked, trying to change the subject. She had the marvelous ability of making what she said sound like the exact opposite of what she meant.

"Perhaps he's out looking for more Nastrondisian lords running rouge through my borders." Jareth replied evenly, his voice suddenly quiet. He tilted his head and looked directly at Egil instead of the princess.

"Your Majesty," Egil replied, his voice calculating voice sounded sharp, "that will not happen again."

Jareth turned his attention back to Iselin, the feral grin back on his face. "What about discourteous cousins?"

Iselin looked disturbed for a few seconds before schooling her face into an aloof mask. "My cousin Skal made a mistake, Your Majesty," she said, trying to sound contrite. "You can be assured that he has learnt his lesson."

Jareth laughed, releasing some of the tension that had built into the atmosphere. "I suppose being buried alive in an oubliette and being bound by Ifriti fire does teach a valuable lesson," he said, voice wickedly delighted.

That sounded horrifying. No wonder Iselin had looked disturbed. Something like anger flashed through Egil's eyes, but he continued sitting quietly, no doubt recording bits and pieces of conversation to take back to King Oren. I was relieved when the first course, chilled melon and cheese salad, appeared on the table. There was some silence on the table that lasted a few peaceful moments.

Finely crafted crystal flutes appeared on the table, filled with sparkling wine that looked so very refreshing. But there was no way I was getting drunk twice in one day, so I left it alone.

"Your human does not drink?"

'Your human.' I could let that go, I truly could.

The Goblin King turned his dual gaze to me. A predatory smile. "She is not yet accustomed to drinking our wine." His eyes did not leave my face. "This will not affect you like the mead, Sarah."

Sa-rah.

I understood his underlying command 'drink the wine, Sarah.' So I did…through clenched teeth. The arrival of the main course, almond milk rice with spinach and baked figs, was a welcome distraction. I was enjoying the mix of savory and sweet tastes when Princess Iselin decided to grace me with her attention again. Though technically, she spoke to Jareth.

"Your human eats gruel instead of dinner?"

She had noticed that I was not eating roast pheasant like the rest of them. I felt like telling her my gruel was delicious, so there.

Jareth raised a brow and lounged back languidly on his chair. He was leaving the response to me.

I sighed. "I do not eat flesh, Princess Iselin," I said, keeping the explanation as simple as I could.

Egil the quiet, took notice of this. He turned his calculating gray eyes in my direction, "Do humans not hunt anymore?"

"Some do," I replied, "most do not, at least where I come from. We can buy a large variety food in …shops." I groaned inwardly, hoping this would not turn into dating app conversation all over again.

I had a feeling Egil was about to ask another question when Iselin gestured to him with a flick of her wrist. Clearly that was the cue for him to shut up. She eyed me for a beat before her eyes turned cold. "You do not drink and you eat gruel instead of pheasant." She took a bite of the pheasant, savoring the taste, completely unhurried. "What does your human do, Jareth?" She turned her attention back to the King, back on a first name basis.

The Goblin King smirked at her before giving me a side long glance, slowly running his eyes up and down my form. I felt my nipples tighten against the material dress as heat crept up my spine.

This was not good. So not good.

Taking a deliberately slow sip of sparkling wine, Jareth leaned slightly in my direction. My mouth went dry as I smelled leather and pinecone. "What do you do, Sarah?" he asked, drawing out my name lazily.

I felt a slow flush spread out across my skin. Cursed blushing genes! I must have looked like the strawberries I had for breakfast. My strawberry resemblance seemed to greatly amuse the Goblin King—his deeply rich baritone laughter echoed against the stone walls.

"She blushes," he said to Iselin, in a tone that suggested something else. My breathing quickened just a tad, only half due to anger. "She's shy," he said, his deep voice had gone quiet when he stressed the word 'shy' … as if he were implying a very different meaning.

I noticed that Iselin had now begun looking at me like a cat, who suddenly because interested in something and was hooked. She turned to look at the Goblin King, lips parting marginally. "You were correct, she is…unusual."

Jareth smirked at her.

"Eat some dessert, Sarah."

Dessert, brandied peach soufflé, had been placed on the table. As per the Goblin King's instructions, I took a bite of the delicious concoction. Just a few more minutes and dinner would be over and I could stop following His Majesty's orders. Food that was served in the castle was certainly better than anything I'd ever had in my life. Except maybe sushi. But then again, it'd been years since I had sushi.

"She is remarkably obedient." Iselin murmured, her voice husky. I was suddenly aware that she was very intently looking at me eat the soufflé.

I stopped eating and focused on massacring the peach slices into the tiniest of pieces. I could survive a few more minutes. I could.

"Sa-rah?"

Jumping a bit when I heard my name, I turned to the Goblin King, eyes wide. I hadn't heard what he'd just said. "I'm sorry, I didn't get that."

"High Counselor Egil was curious as to how humans obtain money to purchase food. Only the nobility may possess currency in the Underground."

"By working?" I offered. Sighing as I saw confused stares, I continued, "we work in various establishments to procure money, which we use for things like housing, living expenses, holidays—that type of thing."

Iselin seemed scandalized, her frosty eyes filled with distaste. "Such an insignificant life."

Gritting my teeth, I repeated my mantra in my head 'I could survive for five more minutes.'

"You have to excuse Iselin, Sarah, as the Second Princess of Nastrondis, she is not the heir to the Nastrondisian throne and therefore unfamiliar with concept of work," Jareth drawled, looking at the princess as he spoke, smiling slowly as she reddened. Judging by Iselin's reaction, Jareth had nudged some deep seated insecurities within her.

Regaining her composure, Iselin laughed her throaty laugh. Her eyes darkened as she looked at the Goblin King absorbedly. "Your cruelty is refreshing, Your Highness."

Jareth bared his teeth as a savage smile widened his lips. "Anything to entertain you, dear Iselin." His voice dripped with disdain, but that did not defer Iselin. Weirdly enough, the more malicious Jareth was to her, the more she seemed to be attracted to him.

Iselin's eyes turned a shade darker and a faint blush covered the tops of her cheeks. "I can think of better methods of entertainment, Your Highness." Her generally throaty voice had become deeply husky. "Perhaps you could join me."

She looked like she wanted to throw the desert plates out and fuck him on the table. And he looked like he would let her. Egil looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. That made the two of us.

Turning her head slowly at my direction, Iselin flashed me an animalistic smile. "Your human shall join us, Jareth."

My eyebrows shot up as I gaped at her before turning to look at Jareth. He was leaning back on his chair, completely relaxed, with a wicked grin on his face. He didn't say anything as he took a slow sip of sparkling wine.

He wasn't going to be helpful.

I sighed, turning back to Iselin I racked my brain, thinking of a polite refusal. "I'm afraid I have to decline your request" though technically, it had been a demand, "Princess Iselin." The look of disbelief that crossed her face bordered on comical. "Threesomes aren't really my thing."

Iselin raised a brow, and turned to Jareth. "Your human does not drink. She does not eat." She turned slowly and raked her eyes up and down my body, "Now she says that she does not partake in pleasures of the flesh," she said derisively.

That did it.

I schooled my features to remain completely blank but failed. Miserably. "I do partake in pleasures of the flesh, Princess Iselin, but getting into a wild orgy type thing with the Goblin King and some magical Viking princess is not something I want to do." I looked at His Highness, who sat back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear.

Iselin looked unimpressed. "Humans seem to have become woefully dull, I could have sworn they had more adventurous tastes a century ago" she said to me before turning back to Jareth, "they are quite quick to show emotion."

His Highness finally sat up in his chair and placed his wine flute on the table. "Not all humans, Iselin," he said, his mismatched gaze fixed on me. "But Sarah is passionate," he said, his voice low. "Aren't you passionate, Sarah?"

I had had enough.

Standing up abruptly, I spoke to Iselin first. "Humans are diverse in their tastes. However, there is a popular theory in cultural anthropology that states, and I'm paraphrasing here, that the more conservative a culture, the more…adventurous their sexual habits. So I suggest you look for people from some of the most backwardly conservative places on earth if you want someone adventurous. Good luck." I whirled to face Jareth and kept my voice as polite as I could. "If you are done amusing yourself at my expense, I would like to be excused, so I can leave you to your entertaining activities" I smiled sweetly, "Your Highness."

A small grin still on his face, Jareth nodded. I was suddenly wearing my gauzy white jacket again. "Very well, you may leave."

I bowed at the three of them before turning around and walking out of the door.

I stepped out of my heels and took off my dress muttering about pervy Goblin Kings and Viking princesses. After brushing my teeth and changing into a black camisole and soft gray pajama bottoms, I sat down on the small desk next to the fireplace. I'd started recording my days on a journal, mostly for retaining information about magic. I wrote day's events, including the weirdest threesome invite I'd ever encountered.

I walked over to the window, shivering as a blast of cold air hit me. I kept one window open throughout the night, or it got too unbearably hot. It was a moonless night so the sky looked darker tonight and the stars shined brightly in contrast. They looked closer than they had ever looked before…like I could reach out and touch them.

Sarah.

The wind rustled the pages of my journal as the firelight flickered and shadows danced on the walls.

Sa-rah.

An ivy vine, that I could have sworn didn't exist earlier, creeped along the window sill.

Sa-rah.

The stars got closer still.

Sa-rah.

Was I hallucinating? I had had a few sips of the sparkling wine at dinner—perhaps it had a strange effect on me. Feeling seriously creeped out, I decided to go to bed. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious as to what Jareth and Iselin were doing.

"Stupid Jareth" I muttered to myself. The voice in my head laughed, knowing full well that I was the stupid one in this scenario.

Dressed in my camisole and pajama bottoms, I was sitting on head of the dining table in the Great Hall facing the Goblin King, who was sitting in his chair, looking up at me. My legs dangled on either side of him. Suddenly aware that I wasn't wearing a bra under the camisole, I tried jumping off of the table.

Had the charming Goblin King magicked me here somehow?

Jareth placed his hands on my knees, keeping me in place. A telltale sign of grin was on his face. "Stay, won't you?" His voice rumbled in my ears as his hands, ever so slowly fell back to his side as he leaned back against his chair.

I had to try twice before finding my voice. "What is going on?"

He raised a sardonic brow. "You're a bright girl, Sarah," was all he said.

I looked around the Great Hall—a few flame torches lit the room, giving it a dim glow, the windows along the wall were wide open, opening up to the eerily starry sky outside, and there was no fire in the fireplace. There was no icy cold breeze coming in from the windows. My eyes widened as I realized I was dreaming. "You said you could not access my dreams unless I invited you."

"You said my name before closing your eyes." He said with a mocking grin, "I took that as an invitation."

"That's not fair!" I said, clamping my mouth shut after I'd already said the words.

Jareth leaned his head on the chair as deep laughter rumbled out of his chest. "You really should learn to choose your words carefully."

Surprisingly, I was able to keep my anger in check; perhaps I had better control of emotions in my dream. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to give you the chance to speak your mind." He stood up slowly and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"So you hijacked my dream?"

His fingers outlined my camisole strap, sending shivers down my spine. "Silly Sarah, I want you to come to the atrium," he said, suddenly shoving my shoulders back with enough force that I lost my bearings.

I was going to fall from the table and hit the stone ground-

I woke up jerkily, gripping the sheets around me, heart thudding in my chest. The sensation of falling was still fresh in my mind.

"I want you to come to the atrium."

Master of Nightmares indeed. I would have gone back to sleep but thought better of it, not wanting to be at the receiving end of a worse nightmare. Hastily stepping out of bed, I draped a woolen cloak around myself and tucked my pajama bottoms into synthetic sheepskin boots—a standard cheaper version of UGGs.

A chance to speak my mind? I was going to give His Highness a piece of it.

By the time I reached the atrium, I was out of breath. Exhaustion had taken away most of my anger, and all I wanted to do was sit on the armchair and have a cup of warm tea. The view of the stars was enthralling from the atrium, almost like I was surrounded by thousands and thousands of round lanterns.

Jareth still wore the outfit he had on earlier, except that he looked somewhat disheveled. His jacket was open, along with a few buttons of his shirt, showing a considerable expanse of his leanly muscled chest. He sat on one of the arm chairs facing the fire, one of his legs rested on the ottoman in front of him and the other lazily swung off of the side. His head was rested back and his eyes were shut.

"You came." His eyes were still shut when I sat down next to him.

Taking off my boots, I placed my feet on the ottoman in front of me before speaking. "I would never miss an opportunity to speak my mind," I said, unable to help a small smile from creeping on my lips.

The Goblin King tilted his head as he looked into my eyes. "Go ahead," he said quietly.

"First things first, stop involving me in weird sex games between you and your-"

I was cut off as deep laughter filled the room. "Oh Sarah, after a century or so passes, we find it increasingly difficult to keep ourselves perpetually entertained…after all, we do not possess magic apps that make lovers appear out of thin air. You are a novelty in the Underground, the Labyrinth's human vessel, of course she wanted a taste." His eyes lightened with mirth and a wolfish smile twisted his lips.

Heat flooded over my body. "That's not how apps work. Either way, keep me out of it"

His smile widened. "Perhaps you are too desirable to resist."

I was blushing faintly and I knew he could see it. "Stop teasing me," I said in a clipped tone.

A slow smile. "Why?"

Because the more you tease me, the more I want you to shove me against the wall and fuck me until I beg for you to stop and that's not a smart thing for me to want. I didn't say that of course, opting to change the subject instead, "I hated being on display for Iselin and Egil."

He sighed. "There will be far more visitations."

"I didn't know what to do half the time," I said, looking at the firelight.

"You fared far better than I thought you would. However, I did have to alter their memories after you, so illustriously, rejected Iselin."

I gaped at him. "I draw the line at accepting sexual requests." I wasn't budging on that.

Raising a laconic brow, the King smirked. "Sarah dearest, your rejection wasn't the problem. It was your reaction that drew attention."

That made no sense. I looked at him and opened my mouth to tell him as much but he signaled me to stop.

"As I said, we live long lives, Sarah and are not as easily…shocked as you. If word gets around that you are too…innocent and dislike participating in our games of the flesh, it will be unpleasant for you. They will use it as a form of torture or humiliation."

Oh.

The Goblin King held my gaze until I looked away, into the fire. He continued speaking when I did not say anything, "I altered their memories—they think you left before desert because you became ill."

"What should I have done?" I asked.

"Laughed it off, told her perhaps next time, given some dubious answer that meant nothing at all," he supplied steadily.

Of course. Trust him to find various ways to bend the truth. We sat quietly for a few moments.

"Was there something you wished to say to me, Sarah?" I could feel his intense, unwavering gaze. I knew he wasn't talking about today's events.

"The binding ceremony was awful," I said, looking at the firelight.

"I know."

"You didn't tell me the exact details."

"I know."

"I cried when they killed the lamb."

"I could see."

I looked up to meet his gaze. "I don't think I can ever forget the part you played."

Jareth didn't blink, "you shouldn't."

He looked like something out of a dream—his legs were relaxed, head leaned back. One of his hands held a glass of mead and the other was loosely draped across the chair. Shadows danced on his bared chest and his wild hair shone golden. I wondered what he would do if I walked over and kissed him, running my hands through his fine, silvery hair. Would his bow shaped lips be soft or demanding?

The faintest of smirks. "Something on your mind?"


	9. Lessons in Negotiation

The faintest of smirks. "Something on your mind?"

The bastard probably knew what I was thinking. I was suddenly reminded of his earlier words from dinner—he had called himself a cross-bred, bastard king.

"I find it amusing, Iselin," he said, his smile grew more feral, "that you expect courtly protocol in the castle of a cross-bred, bastard king that employs a foreign general to run his army."

"I want to apologize," I said sincerely, looking directly into his eyes, lost in its beautiful dissimilarity. "I should not have used the word bastard this morning. In modern day use it generally means something like dickhead." It was a difficult thing to say, but I had to say it.

Jareth remained quiet for a few moments, but his eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement. "So you meant to call me a dickhead instead?"

I opened my mouth and shut it. I had meant to call him a dickhead, among many other things, but I wasn't going to tell him that. "I didn't realize the word would still be used in its original context in the Underground."

He stared at me for a few seconds, his gaze calculating. "Very well. I accept your apology."

I flashed him a smile, "great, because I'm going to barrage you with questions."

Perhaps we could be civil to each other after all.

For a tiny fraction of a second, the Goblin King stepped out of his impassive mask—I could see a rush of uncertainty in his eyes before he schooled his face to its usual expressionless façade. With a crooked grin and an all familiar wicked gleam in his eyes, Jareth spoke slowly, "Sarah dearest, it has occurred to me that I've been so generous as to provide answers to your…ostensibly infinite set of questions."

So much for civility.

His unfaltering gaze never left my face. "Perhaps we could come to some kind of agreement?"

Said the serpent to Eve.

My eyebrows shot up, I chose my words carefully, "what kind of agreement?"

"I leave that in your hands, Sarah." Jareth raised his glass to his lips slowly, his discerning eyes studying my face.

Okay.

"What do you want from me?"

His sharp toothed grin widened as he narrowed his eyes. "Anything you're willing to relinquish…that I find valuable."

My breathing quickened, I knew I had to tread very carefully. "I do not understand these games, Goblin King, you have to be more specific." My heart thudded in my ears. "What do you want?"

"So formal Sa-rah," he murmured slowly, savoring each syllable, "You seem to call me by my name in your dreams."

It did not escape me that he hadn't answered my question. "The last time I said your name, you took it as an invitation to enter my dream," I said evenly, "and then you threw me off the table."

A savage grin. "All fun and games. Sarah."

Crossing my arms, I looked at him decisively. "Tell. Me. What. You. Want?"

"I want you on my bed, wearing nothing but the shoes you had on at dinner." His eyes turned dark.

I gaped at him, open mouthed.

He took that as an invitation to carry on, "I want to hear you scream my name when I make you come, using only my mouth."

The erotic image burned in my mind. I could not breathe. "Stop," I said, my voice shaky. "Just stop, please."

Raising a laconic brow, Jareth shrugged, "Sarah dearest, you did give me carte blanche." He looked at me for a few seconds before speaking, "No?"

He continued when he didn't hear a response, "Very well then, how about you call me by my name?"

I knew what he was doing, the manipulative asshole. He was providing me with an unacceptable option followed by a more acceptable one, one that I'd refused earlier. Now, I had no choice but to take it. Who knew what he'd ask for next?

"Fine," I hissed through gritted teeth, "Jareth."

He grinned ear to ear, an almost vicious smile, "We really do have to work on your negotiating skills."

"Is this some kind of test?" I felt a rush of slow burning anger course through me.

"Look at it as a learning opportunity. The lesson being, Sarah dearest, never give anyone carte blanche on anything and stop huffing like a Florentine nun every time you hear something that makes you…uncomfortable."

"Stop fucking calling me Sarah dearest."

"So easily rattled," Jareth said, mockingly reprimanding me like you would a child. "You need to, as the modern day mortals say, grow thicker skin, my darling, precious little creature."

Darling, precious little creature?!

I had a sudden, childish urge to take one of my knock-off UGGs and throw it at him. Forcing myself to calm down, I spoke in a low voice, "I haven't had much experience in acquiring the particular skill set required for dealing with…debauched people."

He raised a sardonic brow at 'debauched'. "No, you clearly haven't." He tilted his head, reading my reaction, "you had better acquire those skills quickly as Iselin and Egil will seem extremely tame compared to the rest."

My eyebrows shot up. "You would describe Iselin as tame?" I wondered who he'd call wild.

Jareth gave an elegant scoff, "Iselin is a self-indulgent bore. She was sent with Egil to serve as a distraction while he studied you."

So I had been correct.

"You think Iselin, 'I just met you but I demand you participate in a threesome' Iselin is a bore?" I said incredulously, "who do you find interesting?"

A raffish smile indicated that he found my reaction genuinely amusing. "Her cousin, First Princess Astre—she has a wickedly filthy and corrupt mouth."

My mouth went dry. Thick skin, thick skin, super thick skin.

His Highness continued, "Had it been Astre instead of Iselin, I would have intervened because Astre could have easily convinced you to join her."

Xanax. I needed some Xanax quickly. My anxiety was shooting up.

I took the bait. "What makes you think I'd be so easily convinced?"

Jareth grinned wickedly. "She has convinced me to do a few things that were…let us say impulsive and unorthodox," he said, his eyes gleaming with memories.

Well. I changed the subject, "So dinner was some kind of deep-end-of-the-pool training session?"

He raised a brow, "I'm afraid I do not follow."

"Some people learn how to swim by being thrown in deep water. Their instincts take over and they learn how to swim immediately."

A small smile, "you could call it that."

Asshole.

"Did I drown?"

A wider smile and a flash of teeth. "You kept your head above the water. Your instincts are adequate but you are extremely quick to react."

I suddenly remembered the strange hallucinations I had before sleeping. "Was there anything in the wine served at dinner?" I asked, "I saw strange things after going back to my room."

Jareth's eyes darkened, he took a while to answer, like he was debating what to say. "The wine was ordinary." He gestured to the stars outside, "the Labyrinth communicates through nature, the stars, the wind, the trees, even small animals."

My eyes widened. "And you understand what its saying?"

He gave me a look that said 'don't be ridiculous.' "It usually communicates in this manner when it senses a Calling."

"There's a child in the Labyrinth?" I asked softly. My heart felt like it was made of lead.

Jareth sighed as he took another sip of mead. "I haven't gone to retrieve said child, so no, there is no child in the Labyrinth at the moment. The Labyrinth usually senses when someone is going make a wish."

I clenched my and unclenched my fists. Though this was bound to happen eventually, I'd never thought about how I would actually deal with it.

"I was insanely into mythology and folklore as a child, how do people call upon you when they do not know anything about goblins. I can't imagine anyone actually saying the right words."

"Sarah," Jareth said with an almost malicious sneer, "the wish involves a strong, sincere desire for the child to be taken away and never brought back—the Labyrinth senses this wish and summons me. You were the only mortal to specifically call on me."

"You're saying, that the right words had nothing to do with the wish; that I had actually meant to wish Toby away?" Blood roared in my ears and my heart thudded in my throat.

A slow, cruel smile. "Not only did you mean it, you wished it with all of your heart."

"No," I whispered.

"Sarah dearest, you are capable of terrible, terrible cruelty. The Labyrinth sensed this and was drawn to you, your vicious nature. Being the First Ruler of the Labyrinth, I was drawn to you."

Trying to calm down, I too deep breaths. "I'm not cruel."

"No? Tell me, how did your last, as you say, serious relationship, end?" Jareth bared his teeth as his smile grew wider.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I retorted.

"Humor me, precious thing."

"How do you know about my relationships anyway?"

Jareth raised a brow, "you're bound to the Labyrinth, Sarah and the Labyrinth is bound to me. I can glimpse through your memories."

I clicked my teeth. "Stop looking through my life."

"Oh Sarah," Jareth laughed slowly, "always so serious. Do answer my question will you?"

Gritting my teeth, I decided to play his game. "I broke up with Derek because he wanted me to move in with him."

"Hm…what happened to poor Derek?"

I swallowed. Derek had pleaded me to reconsider. I knew from a mutual friend that he had spiraled into a depression. "He took it hard."

The smile on Jareth's face turned malicious. "What did you feel?"

"Nothing."

Jareth laughed a slow, rumbling laugh. "What about the 'serious relationship' before that, Sarah dearest. How did that end?"

"I broke up with Jay when I knew he had started looking for engagement rings. For me." I kept my gaze averted.

"How did poor little Jay take it?"

"He was devastated."

"And what did you feel, Sarah dearest?"

Taking in a deep breath, I looked up to meet his gaze, happy that there was no judgment in his icy, unwavering stare. "Nothing."

"Your mother's father, how often has he tried getting in touch with you, Sarah?"

"He tries once a week."

"And how often do you respond?"

"Never." I did not turn away from his intense stare. "I have my reasons for that though."

"This dying old man wants to make amends, and yet, what do you do, Sarah dearest?"

"I ignore him."

"Why do you ignore him?"

"I want to make him suffer for the way he treated my father."

Jareth tilted his head and nodded slightly. "And so you prove my point, that cruelty is part of your nature. You meant for Toby to be taken away."

"That's not true. I hadn't meant…" my voice drifted off.

Slow, icy laughter, "Oh but you had, my gloriously cruel creature. You meant every word."

I looked at him directly in the eyes, "I got him back."

"So you did, Defeater of the Labyrinth."

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?" I all but shouted, panic and anger seemed to have merged together into a new emotion.

Jareth wasn't remotely phased. "Because you are the only one to ever escape it."

Oh. I had known that, hadn't I?

I wanted to ask what happened to those who did not, but refrained. There was only so much news I could take before breaking down. I unexpectedly had a powerful desire to go to the Labyrinth. "Take me there."

An amused laugh, "I did not hear that, precious."

"Take me there, Jareth."

With a slow rumbling laugh, Jareth focused on me. "My, aren't we demanding tonight."

"Please."

Jareth sighed. "Here I thought you'd be saying that word in an entirely different situation."

"Please," my voice broke.

Assessing me with his cold eyes, Jareth sat up straight in his chair, his feet planted firmly on the ground and his hands on his lap. The glass of mead had disappeared into thin air. "Tell me what purpose it would serve," his voice was deceptively quiet.

I did not know, I just knew that I had a strange compulsion to see the place. "I want to see the castle beyond the Goblin City. I was under the impression that we were going to be there soon anyway because someone's going to make … the wish." Taking a deep breath, I continued, "I've only seen this huge empty castle and the clearing at the Labyrinth during the binding ceremony. I want to see if the castle beyond the Goblin City is the same as I remember."

Jareth's eyes softened as I knew they would. I had known that bringing up the binding ceremony would generate some sympathy in him. I was learning the game, albeit slowly.

"It is not the same," he said, still assessing me, my reactions, and my movements. "Nothing is the same, Sarah." Saying that, he stood up in a smooth fluid movement and held out his ungloved hand.

Tucking my pajama bottoms into my boots, I stood up slowly and fastened my cloak. Jareth's mismatched eyes were locked onto mine as I reached out and took his hand.

We arrived in a room so dark and cold that my teeth started chattering uncontrollably.

"Allow me," Jareth said softly as the huge fireplace in the side of the room roared into life, casting a soft glow around the room.

We were in large room that looked pretty much the same as any room in King's Castle, which, evidently was the name of Jareth's main castle. Silver and black embroidered tapestries hung from the walls and raw crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, reflecting the firelight at odd angles. Fur carpets lined the cold stone floors and an intricately carved, colossal bed sat in the middle. An oil painting of the Goblin King hung above the fireplace. Parting my lips, I moved closer to the painting.

Like a moth to a flame.

The Goblin King stood in battle regalia. He wore a full body armor made of silver and black leather. With his right hand, he gripped sword so massive that the blade touched the ground. His left hand gripped a shield that had a symbol of three arrows pointing upwards. Cold, furious, unflinching eyes stared out of the painting—the artist had managed to capture Jareth's icy beauty very well. He looked like a lion, a breathtakingly beautiful predator that could crush me with one blow.

"Where are we?" I asked him, still studying the painting. The background comprised of massive cliffs, and the King looked like he was standing on a ledge at the very edge of a cliff, fearless.

"We are in my private apartments within the castle. It is the only place in the entire property that isn't infested with goblins or chickens. Blasted creatures." His voice had taken on an annoyed tone.

I looked at him and smiled, "seeing as how you are King of the Goblins, I figured you'd be used to them."

Jareth grinned at that. "One would think. Can I get you something from the kitchens?" he asked, opening a massive wooden door that must have led to the corridor.

"I wouldn't mind something to eat and a cup of tea," I replied frowning. "Couldn't you just poof it here with magic like you usually do?"

Jareth raised an amused brow, "I cannot conjure food from thin air. The food is prepared in the kitchens, I merely transport it." He looked thoughtful for a few seconds, "here's hoping the goblins haven't wrecked the kitchen completely." He shut the door behind him.

Looking around the massive room, I tried gauging Jareth's personality from his possessions. The décor in this room was very similar to the rooms at King's Castle, minimal. There was a leather recliner and ottoman next to the fire, facing the bed, and a small desk and chair set in the very corner of the room. Apart from that, there were no other pieces of furniture. The bed cover of the giant bed was dark green, so dark that it almost looked black, it was lightly embroidered with silver thread around the edges. I sat down on the leather recliner quickly as the only other option was the bed.

"I want you on my bed, wearing nothing but the shoes you had on at dinner."

Turning bright red as I remembered his words from earlier, I gave myself a mental slap. Damn Jareth. I had a feeling that the image would stay in my mind for a long, long time. Perhaps he had been correct, I needed to be less prudish than a Florentine nun. I needed to quit gaping open mouthed every time he said something to unnerve me. The whole thing would have been much easier if I wasn't so attracted to him.

"I got you some fruits and cheese."

Looking up, I caught sight of Jareth coming into the room carrying a tray full of food and a kettle. He had removed his intricately embroidered jacket and untucked his shirt, which hung loosely below his hips. Placing the tray on the floor next to me, he sauntered over to the bed and flopped down elegantly.

"Thank you." The sight of the Goblin King carrying a food tray was unsettling.

Jareth nodded. He was lounging languidly, propped up on his elbows. A few buttons of his shirt were open, showing an impressive expanse of his lean chest. "You will learn to control the urge."

Eyes widening and eyebrows shooting up, I gulped. Had he somehow read my mind?!

"The Labyrinth seeks your presence every time it senses a Calling, hence, the sudden urge you had to visit the castle beyond the Goblin City."

"So do you wait here until the wish is made?"

"I have played this role for a long time, Sarah." He sighed. "I have learnt to control the Labyrinth's pull; so will you." He tilted his head to look into my eyes, his silvery blond hair spilled onto the dark coverlet.

I took a sip of tea, thinking what he'd do if I ran my hands through his hair. He ran a hand through his hair, as if he were reading my mind.

"I've answered many of your questions," he said lazily, still looking into my eyes. "Would you care to return the favor?"

This was one of those times where I had to tread carefully. "I will only answer your questions if I want to."

"Why haven't you married, Sarah?"

Well. He and Karen seemed to have that question in common.

"My generation is … we're going through something called delayed youth. People have started marrying later and many are choosing not to have children. The average age for first marriage of women who have university degrees is thirty one." And then we read books about twenty one year old virgins who meet dangerously obsessive, yet seductive billionaires. Oh the irony.

An intense stare. "You're not an average woman, Sarah. Why haven't you?"

I sighed. "I don't know, I don't think marriage is for me. Hell, I don't even think normal relationships are for me." I looked at him, "I don't mind casual dating; I've had no problems catching male attention."

"Yes, with your magical apps."

I rolled my eyes. "I meant that I'm five foot eight inches tall, wear a size four, have symmetrical facial features, and a hair-eye combination that can be described as strikingly unusual. In a world where physical appearance is considered important, I do well enough."

He raised a brow. "Is modesty not a virtue in the human world these days?"

I let that go. The idea of being lectured about modesty by His Flashiness was laughable. "Yet the thought of having the same life day after day suffocates me. Something's broken and I don't care to fix it."

He didn't push it any further. A fringe of silvery bond hair fell over his eyes and he used his long fingers to comb the wispy lock out of his face. "If you knew everything you would endure in the Underground, would you have accepted the Labyrinth's contract?"

"Yes." That was easy.

Something like anger flashed through his eyes. "Ever the heroine." There was a bitter edge to his voice that I hadn't heard before.

I remembered his words from earlier…

"I did not want you," he said, voice was neutral, like he didn't have a care in the world. He eyed me like a cat eyed a mouse, languidly, daring it to escape. "The Labyrinth wanted you and took the steps to obtain you by its own means. I tried getting other humans to fulfill the role, but the Labyrinth wanted you. Sarah."

"You said you did not want me back in the Underground." I looked at him, trying to study him like he studied me. "Why?"

Jareth propped himself up some more as a predacious grin crept up his face. "I thought it was fairly obvious." He continued looking at me like a sleepy predator when something suddenly grabbed its interest. "No?"

"Obviously not." Dickhead, I added silently.

"You," he said, voice dripping with dark humor, "are my weakness." His mismatched gaze burned into me as he spoke, "I do not enjoy being weak."

This pissed me off. "I get that I'm human and not some precious magical being like the rest of you," I said rolling my eyes. "That makes me weak, not you. Stop being so theatrical." I threw his words back at him.

In less than a second, the Goblin King had leapt off the bed and was pinning my wrists to the arms of the recliner with his hands, his face inches from mine, his mismatched eyes blazing. I could feel his feather soft hair brush against my skin as the scent of leather and pinecones infiltrated my senses.

Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. My flight senses urged me to flee as every hair on my body stood up and goosebumps appeared on my skin.

Keeping my resolve, I looked at him head on. By some miracle, I was able to keep myself from flinching at the sheer fury emanating from his eyes. My blood ran cold like and my heart pounded, completely out of control.

"Did you not listen to me, Sarah," he spoke slowly, his voice deathly quiet. The calmness of his voice was a glaring contrast to the rage in his eyes. "Have I been wasting my time answering your questions," his tone held a hidden threat that I couldn't quite place.

"Only you can be the judge of that," I answered, keeping my voice as steady as I could. "I'm confused as to why you're angry but maybe, you need to be clearer when you speak." Sarah Williams, professional therapist at play.

He leaned in further, his lips almost touching my ear. I could feel his breath stirring the tiny hairs on my neck. "Let me make it clear for you, precious," he whispered, voice dangerously low. "I have been inexplicably drawn to you the minute you set foot on the Labyrinth." I shivered as he placed a feather light kiss below my earlobe. "You have a strange hold over us, Sa-rah," he said, his voice deceivingly slow, like he was relishing each syllable. "Do you feel the pull, Sarah?" He placed an open mouthed kiss in the same spot.

A small moan escaped my lips as I leaned deeper into his touch. "Stop."

Jareth immediately pulled back and looked into my eyes, eyebrows raised and a small smirk on his lips. He did not say anything. It was pretty clear from my reaction that I did feel the pull.

Pursing my lips, I thought of something tactful to say. "It would be incredibly stupid on my part, to get involved with you…in any way. Regardless of how I feel."

An amused smile. "Humor me on why that's the case." He lifted my wrists, encircling them with his hands; his thumbs caressed the sensitive skin on the inside.

I decided to go with brutal honesty. "The power imbalance between you and me leaves me far more vulnerable than you."

My skin sizzled when Jareth placed his head on the crook of my neck and laughed, I could feel the deep rumble of his voice vibrate against my body. "My heroine and philosopher."

"So, could you please let me go?" I said, trying to free my wrists from his iron grasp.

The Goblin King looked steadily into my eyes. "No."

"You cannot fucking hold me hostage on a fucking couch," I growled.

Jareth grinned a sharp grin. "Dear me, what have I been doing so far?"

Feeling angrier by the second, I gritted my teeth and swallowed heated words—which would no doubt amuse him some more. I was beginning to understand how to deal with Jareth and his mercurial behavior. "What would it take for you to let go of my wrists?"

A raised eyebrow. "Carte blanche?"

"No!" I said instantly.

"I thought as much," his eyes lightened with amusement. "I want you to kiss me."


	10. The Calling and The Curse

"I thought as much," his eyes lightened with amusement. "I want you to kiss me."

Well. That was much tamer than his last request, but I wasn't going to give in. What was the worst he could do? "I don't think so," I replied, tilting my head and appraising his reaction. "Keep me hostage on the couch."

Jareth's lips twisted into a delighted smirk. "What was that, precious?"

"Keep me hostage or make me a better offer." I looked at him head on. "No?" I said, mimicking him, mocking his tone exaggeratedly. "Maybe you can take the time to listen to me, instead of speaking."

Jareth's smile broadened and his eyes glowed with inhumanly malicious glee. His thumbs caressed the insides of my wrists. "I'm all ears," he said, his deep voice almost musical.

I swallowed any fear of repercussions I might face because of what I was going to say. "You seem displeased, Jareth dearest. You seem to be very, very angry. I'd say you are absolutely infuriated and I have figured why."

The Goblin King went still, almost as if he weren't breathing. "What did you call me, precious?"

"You heard me," I replied steadily.

A smile full of jagged teeth. "Say it again for me, my darling," he said so quietly that the latter half of the sentence almost inaudible. My darling. That was new. The tone with which he said those words was downright chilling.

Forcing my breathing and heartrate into a steady rhythm, I bared my teeth and smiled back. "Jareth dearest," I said, trying to imitate his tone.

Jareth smiled until his teeth clicked.

"As I was saying, I don't believe I am the source of your anger at all, Jareth. You are angry with yourself."

"Do go on," he said, voice deathly quiet, "I'm always eager to be educated about myself." Jareth's thumbs never stopped gently stroking my wrists.

"Based on your words, the Labyrinth is inexplicably drawn to me and so you are inexplicably drawn to me," I said, my voice had become slightly unsteady as my boldness slipped away slowly. "You cannot control this, can you? Nor do you know why." I looked at him directly in the eyes. "And that is why you do not want me here. Why you're so angry that I accepted the Labyrinth's contract. If I was young or naïve, I'd say you were in love or even obsessed with me, but it's neither of those things. Perhaps you're angry because you do not know what it is."

Jareth's thumbs stopped moving. "I find it so delightfully absurd" he said, slowly raising my right wrist to his face—for a second, I believed that he would crush my bones with his elegant fingers like I knew he could. "That you would presume to know my thoughts," he completed—taking my wrist to his lips, Jareth placed a soft, almost fragile kiss on the inside.

And just like that, he let me go and walked back to the bed.

I let out a deep breath that I hadn't even realized I was holding. My muscles finally relaxing, I slumped against the backrest of the recliner and shut my eyes. "Why do you have to make things so intense?" I asked, sitting up.

Staring at me with his icy, mismatched eyes, the Goblin King did not answer.

Rising up from the recliner, I ran a nervous hand through my hair. "I don't understand what you want from me, Jareth." I had begun pacing the room, a habit I'd had since childhood. "We seem to be in a bizarre world where we are each other's Mr. Darcy. You're drawn to me against your better judgment and I'm drawn to you against my better judgement. One of us needs to be Elizabeth." I knew I was babbling like a mad woman, half out of fear and half out of anger, but I couldn't stop myself, "If you view me as a weakness, it's clearly in your best interest to stop complicating matters."

This seemed to have caught Jareth's interest. He sat up, eyes glinting. "Am I complicating matters for you, Sarah?"

"Yes," I said, giving him a look. "Stay away from me, if I'm your weakness," I said, going back to pacing the room, letting off the nervous anger I had generated within me. "It's simple, basic common-fucking-sense."

In a movement too quick for human eyes to follow, the Goblin King crossed the room and wrapped one of his arms around my lower waist, fingers gripping my hip bones, and tangled his other hand into the masses of my hair, gently tilting my head at an angle. Eyes blazing with dark intensity, he said in his low musical voice, "the problem Sarah dearest," he placed a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth, "is that I find common sense to be highly overrated." Saying that, he molded his lips against mine in a soft, coaxing kiss, licking my lips, asking me for permission.

I froze.

This was stupid. And wrong. I should ask him to stop. I knew he would stop the second I asked.

But I didn't.

The rational part of my brain seemed to have taken a vacation the second Jareth kissed me.

Slowly opening my mouth, I kissed him back, welcoming his tongue as it explored my mouth. Standing on my toes, I wrapped my arms around his broad but slim shoulders and pulled him closer, breathing in his scent of leather and pinecones.

Shrugging off my cloak as Jareth's nimble hands unclasped it, I ran my fingers down his throat and chest. Jareth pulled back, his mismatched eyes bore onto mine, his hands trailing down my arms until they gripped my hips.

"Should I continue, Sarah?"

He bit the spot where my shoulder met my neckline hard enough that it was painful. One of his hands cupped my breast, his index finger encircling my nipple from above the silky fabric of my camisole. I could feel my nipple peaking, straining against the silk, begging to be touched.

"Should I?" he licked the bite with the tip of his tongue and scraped a fingernail against the swollen nipple.

I couldn't speak—my breathing became labored and skin hypersensitive.

"You must respond, precious," his low voice rolled into my ears as he nipped the spot right below my earlobe, making me shiver. His hands were on my shoulders as he placed me against the stone wall, his lips crushing against mine, once again, in a very different, almost brutal kiss. He bit my lower lip hard as his lips consumed my mouth, like he was trying to swallow me whole, breaking apart only when I needed to breathe. Opening my mouth to say yes, I took a sharp intake of breath as a husky moan escaped my throat when Jareth placed an open mouth kiss on the pulse on my neck, his fingers sliding against the elastic band of my pajama bottoms.

Jareth pulled back.

I hissed in retaliation as a cold gust of air hit me.

His eyes were dark, darker than I'd ever seen them. "What was that, precious?" a mocking smile tugged the corners of his lips. His fingers were now gripping my hips, pushing me against the wall, pressing his hardened arousal against me as I trembled. "Something you wished to say?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

I was going to kill him. "Yes, you should continue."

He looked at me for a beat before devouring my lips again, pulling my hair down as he placed a scorching trail of kisses down my neck, nipping the sensitive skin on my shoulders with his teeth. I trembled against his body as his fingers brushed the slit between my legs ever so lightly. I needed more.

"Let me look at you, Sarah."

My mouth was dry. I made a small sound of protest when he removed his fingers.

"You will let me look at you, won't you?" He was toying with me. A predator playing with its prey before it finally pounced.

I didn't care.

I nodded.

Jareth licked my earlobe and murmured into my ear, "you need to speak, Sarah dearest."

"Al…alright." I gasped as he bit the spot where my jawline met my neck.

"Take off your boots and your pants." He walked over to the recliner and sat down, his legs planted on the ground and his knees slightly apart.

I did, unhurriedly. Looking into his eyes the whole time.

I stood in front of him in nothing but my black camisole and cotton lace briefs, the fabric clinging to me because of the wetness that had gathered. I kept my head high as I flipped my long hair back and walked slowly towards the comfortably reposed king. I tilted my head, standing between his legs, "seen enough?"

Scanning his eyes up and down my body lazily, Jareth grinned sharply when he finally looked at me, his fingers massaging the sensitive spots on the back of my knees. "Not nearly enough," he said, his voice hoarse. "Come closer, Sarah."

Right at that moment, a bright light, almost like lightening flooded the room, along with a blast of magic so strong that I fell onto the couch, straight into the arms of the Goblin King. Who, coincidentally, let out a torrent of obscenities in a language I did not understand.

I had some choice words myself. "Good. Fucking. God."

What the hell had I been doing?!

Hallelujah. The rational part of my brain seemed to have returned.

I jumped away from Jareth, fumbling to put on my pajamas and cloak. "What were you thinking?" I hissed at him furiously.

"Apparently, the same thing you were thinking," came his sardonic reply as he stood up and straightened his clothes and tucked in his shirt. "My dear, we must continue our activities at a more…opportune moment," he said loftily, suddenly wearing his formal jacket again.

Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head at the Goblin King. "No," that's all I said.

A toothy, wicked grin. "The lady doth protest too much."

He had a point.

Crossing my arms, I changed the subject. "What was that blast anyway?"

The Goblin King's grin turned savage. "That, Sarah dearest, is the Calling that we were anticipating." He bowed mockingly, "I shall return with the children."

I could hear the remnants of his sarcastic laughter as he disappeared in a flash of ice and wind.

I shall return with the children.

…the children.

My god, what had I been thinking?! This was the same Goblin King of my childhood nightmares. The very same one who made children run the Labyrinth to retrieve their loved ones. The very same one who took the children wished away and…I shuddered. According to my book, he turned them into goblins.

I wrapped my arms around myself as I sat on the recliner, hugging my knees to my chest, as if I were a child. I was bound to get burned if I kept playing with fire.

Waking up with a start, I had the distinct the feeling of someone running their fingers through my hair.

"Defeater!"

"Peachy girl."

"Wakes up! We's not supposed to be in King's chambers for long."

"Wakes up before he kicks us."

Rubbing my eyes wearily, I sat up straight to look at the three goblins whom I'd met when I first arrived. "Hello again," I said, flashing them a smile.

"Come on peachy, we gots to take ya to the viewing ledge," said the screechiest one, Puffer, grabbing my hand and trying to pull me off the couch.

"Hold up," I said, standing up from the couch, "I'll follow you three, no need to pull me along."

Puffer threw his hands in the air, "then hurry, wills ya. The King'll kick us black and blue if wes stays long."

Child taker and goblin kicker.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," I said, following the three green creatures out of Jareth's apartments.

This castle wasn't as open as King's Castle—there were no vaulted windows along the corridors so I could not see what was outside. The fire torches that lit the hallways were dim enough that I bumped into a few goblins and perhaps even stepped on some chickens along the way.

"Where are we going?" I asked. The corridors were also much narrower, I suppose the place was built more for goblins rather than people.

Diesk, the one with the wife who'd look better off covered in fur, looked back, irritated. "The viewing ledge peachy girl."

We climbed a tall tower, much narrower than the tower to the atrium at King's Castle that ended with a chrome plated door to the side.

"You goes in, Defeater," Puffer said, giving me gentle push in that direction. "Goes in quickly. King is waiting." And just like before, the three green creatures zipped down the tower staircase, disappearing from my sight.

Pushing the door open, I walked into a massive terrace at the very top of the castle. At the very edge of the terrace stood the Goblin King, looking into the horizon. He had changed his clothes—gone was the embroidered jacket and crimson shirt. Instead, the Goblin King was dressed in a black leather jacket and a long black cape, his hands covered in black leather gloves, very much like how I'd first seen him.

"Join me at the viewing ledge, Sarah." That wasn't a request. He turned back and offered me a crooked grin and extended his hand.

I stumbled and my feet suddenly felt like they were made of lead.

"Come now, Sarah," he said, voice a little harsher. "The viewing usually lasts only for a very short period of time. We must watch."

I managed to get to him, legs shaking with trepidation. The viewing ledge was aptly named—one could see a large part of the hedge maze section of the Labyrinth from up here, albeit distortedly. Suddenly the view shifted, and sections of the stone gardens were more in focus. I took in a sharp breath—there was a child in the stone gardens, a boy of about fourteen. He had curly golden brown hair, sea-green eyes, and olive toned skin. I could see him clearly even though he must have been very far away.

"Sarah," he said, one arm snaking around my waist and holding me there, "we must watch the runner."

"The view changes," I observed, the boy had reached a section of the stone gardens that was laid out like a game that I was unfamiliar with. Life size game pieces were scattered all over the board. The minute the boy stepped foot on the game board, the pieces came to life, ruthlessly trying to stamp him out. "He could actually get hurt!" I cried, turning to look at Jareth.

Jareth did not respond as his leaden arm kept me in place, forcing me to look at the boy as he dodged the pieces. "We must watch the runner, Sarah."

"Who is he?" I asked, relieved when the kid managed to get through the game board. He had now moved onto some kind of swamp, and was crossing the area by standing on stones.

"An Agean boy who wished away his infant niece." He sighed. "There will be seven hells to pay for this."

I frowned. "Ageans aren't humans, they're from your realm."

Jareth looked at me from the corners of his eyes, "we have humans here as well, but no, these are Agean children."

"But I thought only humans from the human realm could wish children away."

A slanting glance. "You thought wrong. Anyone can be a runner, a child or an adult of any origin."

The kid was proving to be quite resourceful—he had managed to cross the swamp and was now climbing stone walls that would grant him access to the innermost layer of the Labyrinth. "He's going to make it!" I said excitedly as he scoured the wall and was on his way to jumping into the inside.

Just as the boy was about to jump inside, a thick ivy vine wrapped itself around his body like a python encircling its prey. And like a python, the ivy clung tighter, and tighter to the poor boy's body. I turned to Jareth only to find him looking head on at the kid, his eyes emotionless. It was only then that I understood his command 'we must watch the runner.'

"We have to save him," I whispered, "Jareth, save him." He was howling now, we could hear his cries of pain, begging the Goblin King to have some mercy.

I fought, I kicked, I bit, I screamed trying to make Jareth let go of me. When none of that worked, I tried turning my head away, unable to see a child in such pain but to no avail. I felt Jareth's familiar hum of magic engulf me and I could not move my head, nor could I shut my eyes.

"We must watch the runner, Sarah," his voice rumbled in my ears.

The child had stopped now, his lifeless body lay mangled on the ground. In a few seconds, the body crumbled into dust and the wind blew the child throughout the Labyrinth. I felt a rush of its raw magic, the slow musical hum that danced in the air. The Labyrinth was happy.

"I'm going to be sick," I said as Jareth finally released me from his grasp, physical and magical. Falling onto the stone floor the minute he released me, I vomited up the cheese and fruits from earlier in the night.

Jareth didn't look at me as I heaved some more. "Runners never leave the Labyrinth alive, Sarah. Their life force gets absorbed into the Labyrinth, renewing its magic." He gave me a pitiful look and cleaned out the vomit from my clothes with his magic.

I felt a deathly cold chill creep up my spine as my blood ran so cold that my entire body became numb. "Where is the child, Jareth, the boy's infant niece?" my voice had a dangerous edge to it that sounded foreign to my own ears.

"The child is gone, Sarah."

"Where is the child, Jareth?" I said the words louder, my voice came out unstable.

"Gone."

"Where is the child, Jareth?" I screamed the words this time.

"The child has ceased to exist."

"So the Labyrinth uses…" I swallowed down a wave of nausea, "the child's life force as well?"

"Yes. That is how the heart of the Labyrinth is fed."

"Fed?" I laughed sharply as my stomach churned. A loud ringing from deep within disrupted my thoughts.

"Do not be theatrical, Sarah. The child crumbles into dust—which the heart uses for magical nourishment."

"I forfeit the Labyrinth's contract," I was screaming. The more the ringing in my ears increased, the louder I screamed.

A bitter smile. "Oh, my poor precious little creature."

"Do you hear me?" I shouted at the Goblin King and the vast Labyrinth around us. "I forfeit the Labyrinth's contract. I refuse to be your vessel. I want to go back to my world."

"You cannot."

"Yes I can. Your aunt said cooperating is up to me. If I don't cooperate then the contract becomes void."

A vicious smile. "Here I thought you would do anything to help your father."

"Not this."

"You can forfeit the Labyrinth's contract, Sarah dearest, you cannot forfeit mine."

"Your contract?" I sat on the floor as a wave of dizziness passed through me, my stomach readying itself to heave again.

"You bound your life to me by blood, The First Ruler of the Labyrinth, Bearer of the Labyrinth's Curse. And so you bound your life to the Labyrinth and its curse."

Water. My throat was parched and my lips were flaking. "When?" I managed to wheeze out.

"When you signed my fealty oath with blood. You will age as slowly as I do and you will live as long as I'm alive. You can never leave us, Sarah—be assured that we will never let you go."

The ringing in my ears got unbearable. Anything Jareth said after that was drowned out by the grating in my ears. "I need to sit in the garden," I said, but I wasn't able to hear my own voice.

I felt Jareth hold my shoulders and sift me to the castle garden in the front and place me on a stone bench. I must have asked for some space as he walked a few steps away from me. If he had expected accusations of deception and tantrums, he was disappointed. I did neither.

Standing up I said good bye in the calmest voice I could muster and ran.

I ran into the Labyrinth with inhumanly fast speed—the walls zipped by me in flashes as I ran with all my might.


	11. The Fallible King

 

**\--**

I awoke with a start, my throat distinctly hoarse, as if I had screamed until my voice gave out. A jolt of energy ran down my spine and my teeth clicked in my jaws. My hair felt sticky and my limbs were leaden, like they were dead weight I could not move. I noticed I was back in my room in King’s Castle. Amer’s amber colored eyes greeted me, easing some of the panic I felt.

“Water,” I whispered, “please.” My throat was so raw that speaking had become painful.

Amer handed me a glass of cold water immediately and lifted it to my lips, when he realized that I couldn’t move my arms. “The water will heal you, Lady Sarah, do not make any sudden movements. Eires says you have healed well, but she has put you under observation for another day.” He held one of my shoulders with an iron grip to ease my shakiness.

Just as he said, I felt a tingling sensation travel down my throat as I sipped the water, praying I wouldn’t throw it back up. The tingling sensation traveled throughout my body, easing my pain. “Thank you, Amer,” I said, looking at him sincerely, “I’m really grateful for everything…” _and that you’re here instead of the King_.

“Running into the Labyrinth was an unwise decision, Lady Sarah,” his voice was soft, but matter-of-fact. “You would have lost your life had it not been for the King.”

I looked at him bluntly. “I would have forfeited the contract and gone back to my life, had it not been for the King.” Smiling without humor, I continued, “I wouldn’t have to be a monster, had it not been for the King.”

Amer ran his hand through his curly locks, sighing deeply. He looked at me for a few moments, his amber eyes sincere. “You are new to our world, Lady Sarah and unfamiliar with our history. The Labyrinth has existed in our realm since the dawn of time. Legend dictates that when the Silver Bearers settled in this land, they had to make a pact stating they would provide it with sacrificial magic. They came up with a powerful spell, also called the Labyrinth’s curse, that transcended the two realms, yours and ours, declaring that that there would be a dual sacrifice offered to the Labyrinth—the sanctioned, one who is wished away, and the runner, one who fights. The leader of the Silver Bearers would be bound by the spell to procure the sacrifices, as chosen by the Labyrinth. In return, the Labyrinth provided unparalleled magical strength to the Silver Bearers—hence, they are the only beings in our realm who are able to generate magic from within themselves. The King does not have a choice in the role he has to play; he must pledge the sanctioned to the heart of the Labyrinth and he must watch the runner die.”

 _And he ensured that I did not have a choice either._ I didn’t say that to Amer—the High General was clearly extremely loyal to Jareth.

When I did not say anything, Amer continued, “Previous rulers of the Goblin Kingdom used to hold annual tournaments where runners from across the realm would try and solve the maze. They couldn’t, of course. All rulers allowed prisoners of war into the Labyrinth, just to watch them perish and feed the Labyrinth more power.” He let that information sink in, “The first thing Jareth did after becoming King was to outlaw these practices.” He looked at me, “The King is far from being a monster.”

I sighed. “That’s irrelevant to me; the King tricked me into binding my life to his—whatever that is, and the Labyrinth.”

“Perhaps he realized that you would forfeit if you knew the true nature of the Labyrinth.”

Widening my eyes, I gave him an incredulous look. “That doesn’t justify anything.”

Amer laughed gently. “Perhaps not, but it does clarify why he would choose to take such a course of action. He may have bound your life to his so that he could keep you alive during the binding ceremony.”

So I hadn’t imagined it.

_“Fight for me, Sarah.”_

I wondered about the other, probably infinite number of, things Jareth must have kept hidden from me. For a second, I felt rage and frustration engulf my mind, only for a second before a disorienting amount of dread took over. I was tied to him for who knew how many thousands of years, and there was nothing I could do about it. “I cannot do this,” I whispered, “I’m not the kind of person who can do something like this.”

Amer stood up and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You can, Lady Sarah,” he said, with utmost reassurance. “You do not want to, but you can.”

Trying to keep my hysteria and despair under control, I looked away from his kind eyes. “Why does he keep hiding things?” I asked rhetorically, to no one in particular. “He makes everything more difficult than it has to be.”

“Perhaps that’s a conversation you should have with me.”

I jerked my head towards Jareth’s icy voice—my breath accelerating automatically as I looked into his unnerving eyes.

_“You can never leave us, Sarah—be assured that we will never let you go.”_

He was leaning against the wall, his wild hair looking as untamable ever. Having changed out of his Goblin King gear, he was wearing a loose white shirt with tailored tan pants. It was the most casual I had ever seen him dress.

Giving me an informal bow, Amer smiled reassuringly as he turned to leave. He stopped next to Jareth and whispered something I could not hear before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

“I have been given austere instructions not to upset you,” Jareth said, a hint of humor in his voice, as he stalked towards me.

_“…we will never let you go.”_

My heartrate quickened out of sheer anger which seemed to have replaced my fear of the Goblin King. “Thank you for saving my life, Your Highness, and effectively ruining it for eternity,” I said acerbically.

“You are most welcome,” he replied without missing a beat, not at all phased, as he sat down on the edge of my bed. He fixed his eyes onto mine and held my gaze for a long time before speaking. “I want you to listen to me without any interruptions. Once I am through, you may reply.” He looked at me, waiting for an acknowledgement.

“Fine.” I squashed down the anger bubbling inside my chest.

Jareth kept looking at me, his eyes so intense that I had goosebumps on my skin. Just when I thought he was going to get up and leave, he softened his gaze. “You were correct” he paused for what seemed like eternity, “I was, _I am_ , extremely enraged with you.”

I raised my brows.

“I do not enjoy the role of the Goblin King, Sarah, but I was born into it and I will never abandon my duties. The fact remains that I did not choose this role.” He paused for a few heartbeats, “you chose yours freely. Knowing you,” he gave me an appraising glance, “you will protest, you will argue that you did not know the consequences of agreeing to such a contract. You do not acknowledge that you made a blind _heroic_ decision and bit the peach without so much as considering a single ramification of your action.” The latter half of his sentence held his ever familiar mocking tone.

Jareth leaned into me slightly, his eyes getting darker with an emotion I could not identify. “I was furious when I learned of what had happened, because I knew that you would not survive the binding ceremony. Were you to miraculously survive, you would never keep the bargain after seeing the Labyrinth for what it was, how it functioned…and I could never let you die or leave.”

A thousand thoughts ran through my head as I heard him speak—this was probably the best alternative to an apology that I would ever get from him. I settled for, “That’s not my fault, Jareth.”

“No, it is not.” He held my gaze.

I looked back at him evenly. “Since you spoke about _duties_ , I want to let you know that I did not accept the peach out of heroism, or the need to play savior. I chose the contract because I feel a strong sense of duty towards my father, my brother, and even Karen. I had the chance to keep my father from defaulting on loan after loan, and my brother from compromising his future, so I took it. I love them enough to put their needs ahead of mine. That is something you will never understand.”

Something flickered in his mismatched eyes but he kept holding my gaze. “The Gaelians are here for dinner—you may join us if you feel well.” It didn’t escape me that he changed the subject.

“I cannot deal with an Iselin equivalent tonight.”

A small smile, “Brijit and Manus would be more discreet in making any such propositions, but they are not so boorish as to proposition you on a first meeting. Azael may join us as well, his kind is…more conservative than most of us.”

I raised my brows at his use of ‘proposition’ but didn’t say anything. “I don’t even know how I’m supposed to greet these people.”

“I do not care for protocol. Greet them like you would greet guests in your world. The only demand I have is that you request my permission to leave, if you wish to leave early.”

“I can do that.”

With a serious expression on his face, Jareth spoke, his voice low, “Sarah, you are not expected to do anything against your will.”

 _Oh please_. “Except be bound to you, by blood.”

He did not take the bait. “Yes, except that. I may have let Iselin aggravate you the other night to test your instincts…and for my amusement, but I would have stepped in had you needed my help.”

“I have good faith in my ability to fend off would be propositioners, don’t worry. I’ve lived in Brooklyn for years now, I’m used to yelling back at catcallers.” I’d also punched a mugger in the face once, but I didn’t feel the need to tell him that.

Jareth grinned slightly, but his eyes remained darkly serious. “If you feel coerced in any way, you will inform me. If anyone tries-“

I cut him off before he could complete the sentence, “So the only person allowed to coerce me is you, is that it?”

A tight grin. “Yes. Although Daemora might coerce you into planning a feast.”

“You relented?” I asked him, almost smiling. He shrugged elegantly as a reply. “I saw her in my dreams you know,” I said, frowning as I tried to remember what she had said. “She was trying to convince me that I should not take the Labyrinth’s victims’ deaths personally.”

Jareth laughed, “She did say something to that effect. She actually wrote down a list of reasons and read them out to you while you were sleeping. Her dream weaving skills must have improved if she was able to plant herself in your dream.”

“She made a list?”

A slow smile. “Yes. She was confused as to why you were so affected by the deaths of children you did not know.”

I gaped. “That boy was not much younger than her!”

A wider smile. “She is not human, Sarah. None of us are,” Jareth explained, his voice devoid of emotion but not unkind, “we do not feel the emotions you do.”

A hilarious thought popped into my head _: So I was a land full of Jeffrey Dahmers. Where everyone had sex like they were characters in Dangerous Liaisons. And I was stuck here for a very, very long time._

I suddenly felt uneasy in back of my mind. There was something else that had happened in my dream. Something to do with the Dark Court.

“Something troubles you.”

I looked up at him, frowning. “There was a person in my dream. He said something about seeing me at the Dark Court.”

Jareth went deathly still, his eyes icy cold. “Explain.”

I shut my eyes, trying to desperately to remember his face and the dream sequence flooded back to me.

_Silver blond hair spills onto the dark green sheets._

_“Should I touch you **here**?”_

_“Look at me, **Sarah dearest**.” _

_He laughs. “I’ll never stop. Not with **you**.”  _

_“Come for me. Don’t look away now.”_

_“So **you’re** the intriguing human Jareth has locked away.” _

_My eyes fly open and I stare at a pair of sea-green eyes, peering down at me._

_“We shall see you in the Dark Court soon enough.”_

If Jareth saw that my face turned into the shade of a tomato, he did not mention it. I took a deep breath before speaking, hoping I could keep my voice straight. “He had brown hair, short, maybe curly, classically cut, and green eyes, darker than mine. Lighter skin than Amer but much darker than you. I don’t know if this helps, but in terms of the human realm, he looked like he could be from anywhere between Southeastern Europe and the Middle East.”

“Tell me his exact words.” His voice was cold and commanding.

I gritted my teeth. Asshole was acting like it was my fault. “He said, ‘so you’re the intriguing human Jareth has locked away,’ and then he said, ‘we shall see you in the Dark Court soon enough.’”

“What was he doing?”

I turned away, thinking of ways I could avoid telling him the exact context.

“Sarah.” There was an icy warning in his authoritarian voice. “What was he doing?”

I could do this. “I was in bed with a man and I had closed my eyes for a second. That particular man disappeared and green eyes took his place.”

Jareth looked at me with such an intense stare that I wondered if he was trying to get into my head and see the image. I looked right back at him, hoping I could keep the mask of indifference on my face.

“Did he touch you?”

“Which one?”

“The green eyed man. Did he touch you?” Jareth repeated the question.

“No.” I said quickly. “But I was scared. The way he looked at me was just…creepy to say the least.”

“Tell me everything you can remember of your dreams.” His tone was detached but his eyes were ablaze.

I closed my eyes, still feeling his intense gaze, trying to remember anything I could. “I remember most parts being bits and pieces of memories. There was one bit about my cousin’s sixteenth birthday, how we had gotten ridiculously drunk and gone for a joyride on the highway. We died in the dream, but in reality, we only got arrested. It was a really stupid thing to do—we could have died, we could have killed innocent people…anyway, not one of my proudest memories.” I grimaced as I recalled the incident. My dad had flown to LA almost immediately. He hadn’t said anything, but his disappointment had been so palpable that I had broken down in tears. We were lucky the police only charged us for underage drinking and not cocaine possession or driving under the influence. I wasn’t allowed to visit my mother’s side of the family for the next two years after that.

I had no idea whether Jareth understood anything about cars, drinking and driving, or highways, but he narrowed his eyes when he looked at me. “What else.”

“There was another bit about Daria, the same cousin, trying to get me to take some clothes. She accused me of pretending my mother’s side did not exist.” She may have been right about that.

“This makes you feel guilty.” It was an observation, an accurate one, and not a question.

I shrugged, “I suppose. My mother and father came from very different backgrounds and I don’t think I’ve ever really fit in either.”

Jareth looked at me without saying anything.

“I remember something about Karen and her friend from tennis class. She’d come home and asked about my mother. I remember feeling angry about that.” I paused in case Jareth wanted to add anything. He did not so I continued, “There was a sequence regarding my breakups.” _Cold hearted bitch_ —that one had stung.

“You are upset.”

_Damn Jareth. The man could read me like an open book._

I sighed. “It’s nothing…one of them called me a cold hearted bitch and that did _not_ feel nice.” I changed the subject, “Anyway, the last two dreams were about Daemora telling me to get over the children’s deaths and then seeing the green eyed man.” _While I was in bed with you._

Locking his eyes onto mine, Jareth’s expression hardened considerably. “The green eyed man you refer to is Calestos, Deimos’s dream weaver and a member of the Agean court. The fact that he was able to invade your mind while you are under my protection, is unacceptable. As the Sovereign of Dreams and Master of Nightmares I have failed to safeguard you.”

_Good grief. Jareth was admitting he did something wrong?_

I stared at him, open mouthed. “But you can protect me in the future, right?”

“Yes.” He looked somewhat disturbed, which, in turn, unsettled me because I had begun to look at him as an infallible figure. “I did not ward your dreams because I believed we were too far from Agea. Calestos must have grown more powerful since the last time I met him. I will place a ward in your mind to repel other dream weavers.” He extended an ungloved hand and placed his fingers lightly on my forehead—something cold tingled through the touch. “You are safe now.”

“Except from you.” I couldn’t resist.

Grinning wickedly, Jareth leaned into me a little. “Except from me.” His voice had deepened.

I trembled, remembering a vivid scene from the dream _. “I’ll never stop. Not with **you**.”_

“Is something wrong?” Jareth raised a brow, his voice lower still.

“Nothing,” I replied chirpily. There was no way in hell I would ever tell him about that dream. _Asshole would probably smirk about it for the rest of our mutually bound lives._

There was a hint of a smile on Jareth’s lips. “I shall leave you now so that you can rest. The maids shall wake you and help you dress if you decide to join us for dinner.”

\--

I stared at my reflection on the mirror as Cryen and Xia arranged my hair in a silver hair band that had three strands. They lined my eyes with kohl, bringing out the green in my eyes, and added slight crimson color to my lips. This time around, they had brought some jewelry—a pair of earrings that resembled little pendulums and strands of pearls that almost reached my waist. The earrings consisted of a thin strand of silver holding a perfectly cut, square shaped crystal that swung every time I moved my head. The multi stranded pearl necklace wasn’t really my thing, but Cryen and Xia were so enthusiastic that I didn’t have the heart to refuse them.

I’d given them the liberty of choosing my dress as I figured they had far better knowledge of how this world worked than I did. They had chosen an emerald green strapless dress that molded onto my body like a second skin. The design was simple enough—a straight column dress, but the fit was risqué, emphasizing every small curve. This worked out well for me because I didn’t have too curvy a figure and this dress made it look like I did. I wore my black, department store version of Louboutin, stilettoes. With an additional four inches, courtesy the stilettoes, I was six feet tall. Maybe not as tall as the rest of them, but tall enough. I draped a cloak over my ensemble.

Not bad. Daria would have wept with joy if she’d seen me like this. Except for the department store shoes.

\--

Shooing Cryen and Xia away as I reached the doors of the Great Hall, I handed them my cloak. Fortunately, this time around, I did not feel the same awkwardness I had felt earlier.

I felt relieved to see Amer sitting at his usual place at the table, when I entered the room. He was dressed in loose flowing but formal brown pants and a maroon colored leather jacket. If he was carrying any weapons, which he probably was, I could not detect any of them. Giving him a slight smile, I walked towards the table, studying the two new people there. On Amer’s right, there was a red haired woman with delicate facial features and forest green eyes; her hair was arranged in a braided coil on top her head. The copper colored, full sleeved, dress she wore looked like it had been spun with really thin metallic wires. Directly opposite the woman sat an auburn haired man who wore gray tailored pants and a dark green jacket. His eyes were the same shade of forest green as the woman’s and his facial features just as delicate.

Bowing slightly as I reached my seat, I smiled at the Goblin King. “Your Highness.” Dressed in a formal black leather jacket with silver epaulettes and tailored black pants with shallow boots, he looked elegant and minimalistic at the same time.

“Sarah, I see you are able to join us,” Jareth drawled his voice taking on its usual mocking tone and nodded his head. “Allow me to introduce Brijit, Princess of Osin, Gaelia and Crown Prince Manus of Gaelia.”

I smiled at both of them, “hello, pleased to make your acquaintance,” I said, the most formal greeting I could think of. I shook both their hands, which they clearly found unusual and amusing, but didn’t question or comment on. I turned to Amer, “General,” I said, bowing in his direction before sitting down in my usual place.

“Lady Sarah,” Amer spoke, his voice less boisterous than usual, “Good to see you have recovered.”

“Thank you.”

Prince Manus, seated to my left, wasted no time in jumping into conversation. Looking at me with his sharp green eyes, he said, “I haven’t met someone from the human realm for three centuries, Lady Sarah—though I have heard much has changed. Perhaps you could explain some of these changes for us.”

I raised my brows, thinking of a response. “A million things have changed Prince Manus, I don’t even know where to begin. Let me stick to my country,” confused stares, “nation?” confused stares, “kingdom without a king or queen.”

“You mean territory,” Brijit offered, her piercing voice held a tiny bit of derision. She may have had delicate features, but she was as sharp as a hawk.

I smiled graciously, “Yes, thank you, Princess Brijit. “In the last three hundred years, we’ve made remarkable progress in medicine. People no longer die of common bacterial diseases and we have vaccinations for most viral diseases. We can fly across the earth in planes. The population has expanded to over seven billion people.”

“Seven billion?” Prince Manus looked shocked.

“Humans breed faster than vermin,” Brijit interjected distastefully, “but seven billion is unbelievable.” She looked at Manus, “precisely why we should keep our human villages in check.”

_So, she clearly wasn’t going to be my new best friend._

Sneaking a peak at Jareth, I noticed he was in his usual languid position, listening to the conversation with aloof disinterest.

“What was your daily routine, Lady Sarah?” Amer asked, ending the awkward silence.

“On a weekday, I would get up at six, go for a run, get changed and reach work by nine. I usually left work at six and headed out with friends or a date. There was always something to do in my city.”

“What were you running from?” Prince Manus looked like he hadn’t understood a word of what I’d said.

I squashed bubbling laughter down my throat as it probably wasn’t polite to laugh at a crown prince. “I ran to be fit and work off daily stress. I wasn’t running from anything.” Fortunately, the first course arrived—it was some kind of green salad that I’d never had before. Along with it came a crystal tumbler full of a fizzy reddish drink.

“You’re not drinking our prized Gaelian applewyn, General?” Brijit’s sharp voice was directed at Amer—I noticed he had a water goblet instead of the reddish drink. “Our customs dictate that all revelers at the table must drink from the same source.” The sharpness had transformed into sheer disapproval and disdain.

The General turned to her, giving her his full attention, his amber eyes glowed like they were twin fireballs. My eyes widened, he suddenly went from the kind man I was used to, to someone who could rip Brijit’s head off if necessary. “I am High General and I am dining with my King. I refuse to eat or drink anything that may alter my abilities to protect him, should I need to.” He added, very quietly, “I am hoping I will not.”

Brijit’s face reddened with anger, but she wasn’t foolish enough to engage Amer in a fight.

Manus laughed softly, breaking the tension. “That will not be necessary General Amer.”

Meanwhile, the Goblin King sat at the head of the table, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Brijit,” he said, still sitting languidly with his head tilted slightly, “you are aware that my General is not from the Northwestern lands and therefore exempt from having to follow our customs.” It wasn’t a question.

Brijit managed to mask her expression back to neutral. “Of course Your Highness,” she said, complacently, “I forget that you do not care for customs.” Manus frowned at that—he wasn’t very happy with her behavior.

There was a bit of peace as the main course arrived, mine was different from the rest, but the Gaelians did not comment. I took a tentative sip of the applewyn, which turned out to be the most delicious apple cider I had ever tasted.

“Leave us now, Brijit,” Manus said as soon as Brijit had finished her meal, his voice was neutral.

The red haired woman looked at her Crown Prince for a few seconds before standing up and bowing. “By your leave, Your Highness,” she said to Jareth, voice pleasant, completely devoid of the anger she must be feeling for having been so easily dismissed. “Prince Manus.” She looked at Amer and bowed, “High General.” And finally she turned to me, “Defeater,” she said evenly and disappeared from the room.

_That damn nickname was going to stick._

“I apologize for Brijit’s behavior and hope it shall not create any difficulties in our dealings at court” Manus said, looking Jareth before turning his attention to Amer. “She still harbors resentment towards you for the…incident regarding her brother Kiaran.”

Amer raised his brows in surprise, “two centuries have passed since.”

“Yes well, you know what they say about Gaelian tempers and our ability to hold grudges.”

“What was this incident?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

The Goblin King who had remained uncharacteristically quiet until then decided to join the conversation. “Before he joined my army, Amer had an adventurous streak that took him around our realm, kingdom to kingdom.”

Amer gave him a look. “Let me remind you that I was young and had been cast out of my own kingdom.”

Jareth grinned, looking at me, “his adventurous streak took him to Gaelia, where he decided to share amorous relationships with Kiaran and his cousin Ebera.”

_Well. Well. Adventurous streak indeed._

“Unfortunately, neither knew about the other, and both developed an unhealthy obsession with the General. So when they did find out, they held a duel that almost ended with both of their deaths.”

Shaking his head in resignation, Amer sighed. “They eventually developed some sense and stopped trying to kill each other.”

“So what happened next?” I asked. _Dangerous Liaisons indeed_.

“The General fled to the Goblin Kingdom before Kiaran or Ebera could consult him for an explanation.”

I snorted with laughter, unable to imagine this huge, intimidating man running from two lovers instead of facing them. “General Amer,” I said in between fits of laughter, “I never expected you to do something like that.”

“I was young and rash.”

Prince Manus had a small smile on his lips. “I trust we shall retain our association at court?”

“Of course,” Jareth spoke, his voice regal and detached, “our relationship is with you and the Crown of Gaelia, not Brijit.”

“I shall head back and draw the contracts,” Manus responded, standing up and bowing. “By your leave,” he said before fading into thin air. I could smell fresh blades of grass and spring leaves as he sifted.

“I thought they would never leave.” A deep, raspy female voice said from the entrance of the Great Hall and I saw a figure stalking towards us with the grace of a leopard. She had long, loosely held, black hair and skin as dark as Amer’s. Her large, coal black eyes were framed with thick, crescent shaped eyelashes. She wore a full sleeved, black leather jumpsuit that was molded to her body and had multiple arm bands that held small golden knives of various sizes.

My eyes widened as she came closer—on her back were massive slate gray wings that were folded up.

“Zepara,” Amer said, his tone held a hint of surprise, “we were expecting Azael.”

She smiled, flashing teeth as pointy as Jareth’s. “Azael is indisposed at the border, so I was sent to inspect the human.” She looked at me, and cocked an eyebrow, “I take it she is not familiar with Zephyrs?”

_Hell no, I wasn’t._

“No, she is not,” Jareth spoke, sitting up, assessing the woman with his cold eyes. “You may inspect her freely.”


	12. Cruelty

The winged woman, Zepara, walked over slowly and stood next to me. Placing her hand on the back of my chair, she leaned down as she assessed me with her coal black eyes. “She looks like a regular human. I doubt Deimos will be intrigued enough to try anything that might upset the Goblin King.” She said, directly speaking to Jareth while looking at me. I noticed she did not formally greet Jareth or Amer. Hell, she did not greet them at all. I suppose there was some solace in the fact that she was rude to everyone, not just me.

“Calestos wove himself into her dreams,” Jareth spoke, his voice flat, as he looked at her with his cold eyes from the head of the table.

“ _Really_ ,” Zepara said, her voice holding exaggerated interest. She looked me over again, trying to determine what she had missed. She bent down low enough to place her face on the same level as mine, as she trailed her fingers down my face. “I will admit, she is beautiful, but I cannot feel any magic on her skin.” Her fingers lingered on my lower lip.

 _Well_. Fighting to keep a neutral expression on my face, I quickly glanced at Jareth with the corners of my eyes, trying to ask him what I should do—he was grinning at Zepara, completely oblivious to my question. Hadn’t he said their kind was more conservative than the rest?

Jareth raised a brow. “She absorbed a complete measure of the Labyrinth’s power. I can assure you, she has a tremendous amount of magic within her at the moment.” _This was news to me_. He eyed her with slight derision, “You should have been able to pick up at least a faint trace of magic.”

Zepara didn’t react, she tilted her head at an angle that was impossible for a human—it gave made her look like striking bird of prey. Looking at me with her big, dark eyes, she kept reading my reaction to everything that was going on. “Perhaps we will agree to ally ourselves with you at court.” Her fingers traced my lips slowly. “But what would we gain by joining an alliance with you?”

“You will have my expertise in analyzing Xertios,” Amer spoke from his seat, his eyes fixed on her every move.

Turning back to look at the General with amusement in her eyes, Zepara smiled, her teeth flashing. “The honor driven Ifrit is finally willing to speak against his king?”

“Xertios was never my king.”

Zepara let out a raspy laugh, throwing her head back in abandon. “It has taken you a long time to betray your former lover General, why should we trust that you will keep your word?” Turning her birdlike eyes back onto me, her fingers kept tracing my lips softly.

Standing up abruptly, Amer stared at Zepara, I noticed his hands were clenched and his eyes had turned into liquid fire. He had challenged Brijit because he had been annoyed, with Zepara, it looked like he was losing his temper. “Xertios was never my lover,” he spoke in an eerily calm voice. “You may let Azael know that the Buqahari army will attack the Zephyrs of Pyranos soon. It would be wise to gain knowledge of his enemy to prepare for war.” He turned to Jareth, his hands still clenched, “I shall retire if you do not need me.”

“You may leave,” Jareth replied, his eyes hardened as he focused on Zepara.

Amer nodded his head towards me, “Lady Sarah,” he said softly before disappearing in flash of fire.

Sighing loudly with mock annoyance, Zepara turned towards Jareth, “Does your General not discuss anything other than death and war?”

Jareth grinned viciously, his sharp teeth in full view. “During the Court Wars, the Ifrits burned Pyranos to the ground. They used to burn the wings off of Zephyrs that were captured, and torture them for days. How would you feel if your wings were subjected to slow burning Ifriti fire?”

Zepara blinked, her crescent shaped lashes sweeping her cheek bones. “I shall inform Azael,” she told Jareth, but her eyes were focused on me. “So much trouble for one human,” she said, leaning into me, close enough that her nose brushed mine. “Sarah Williams, First Vessel and Defeater of the Labyrinth, I shall see you at court,” she whispered and placed her lips on mine for a soft, feather light kiss before pulling away.

 _I hadn’t expected that._ I gawked at her, wide eyed. “Is that how Zephyrs say goodbye?”

She grinned instead of answering me and turned to Jareth. “I would recommend ciphering through Calestos’s eyes, you may see Deimos on the other side.” Saying that, she nodded curtly at Jareth and disappeared, leaving behind black smoke and mist.

“What in the world was that?” I asked Jareth, genuinely bewildered.

Jareth’s expression had turned grim, his eyes were narrowed and his lips pursed into a thin line.

 I took a sip of the cider, “Jareth?”

Jareth slowly turned to look at me, his eyes still deep in thought. He did not say anything.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, taking a big swig of the cider. Things were most likely not okay, so I figured I may as well get drunk. The tumbler was automatically refilled with the reddish drink once I had guzzled it all up.

“Come here, Sarah.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Jareth was suddenly standing right behind my chair, holding out his hand for me to take. His voice was deceivingly quiet and his eyes glittered with an emotion I could not identify.

 _Okay_. “So…where are we going?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“My apartments.”

I raised my brows.

He frowned at me, his face beautifully angled. “We can go to your room if that makes you more comfortable.”

“And why are we going to either place…together I mean?” _In the middle of the night._

“You do not trust me, Sarah.” Jareth smiled slowly, his voice low.

 _Not in a million years_. “Not until you tell me what is going on.”

“Very well,” he said, grinning with a flash of teeth, “I will cipher through Calestos’s eyes and gain some understanding of Deimos’s plans.”

“Why can’t we go to the atrium?” I asked bluntly. There was no way I was going to his apartments if I could avoid it. “Or your study…or some other spare room in this gigantic castle?”

“All rooms are warded and sectioned off.”

I hesitated, trying to think of some solution. _Any solution_.

Narrowing his eyes, Jareth spoke coldly, “Do not try my patience, Sarah.” The warning in his voice was clear. “Take my hand.”

Technically, it wouldn’t make a difference where we were—we would still be alone. And technically, it wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust myself around him.

“ _Take my hand_ , _Sarah_ ,” Jareth demanded.

I sighed. “We can go to your apartments,” I said, resignedly taking his hand. I figured that his room probably had more furniture than mine.

\--

Jareth’s apartments were just that—actual apartments. We sifted into a massive sitting room that had a few more doors on the side that probably opened up to different rooms. As with all other rooms, there was a roaring fireplace situated at the far wall—two arm chairs sat beside it. Woven, silk and woolen, rugs were placed throughout the floor and there was a large sofa set, made of carved black wood and leather, at one end of the room. As with Jareth’s room in the castle beyond the Goblin City, there was a portrait hanging in above the fireplace—I walked over to the fire, curiosity getting the better of me.

The closer I got, I realized that there were two portraits hanging above the fireplace in carved wooden frames. The portrait on the left was of a man dressed exactly like Jareth in full battle regalia, except he was far more terrifying.  He looked broader and taller than Jareth and his skin was as white as the Silver Lady’s and his eyes just as iridescently, icy blue. The portrait on the right was of a woman, much smaller and delicate, with rich brown hair that cascaded all the way to the ground. Dressed in a gauzy white gown that made her look like a forest nymph, she was smiling widely, her pine colored eyes glowing with happiness.

“My mother and father came from different backgrounds as well.”

Alarmed, I turned to see Jareth looking at me with a neutral expression on his face. I tried thinking of something to say, but could not think of anything that would not be intrusive. “Your mother is beautiful.”

He made an unaffected gesture with his hand. “I never knew her.”

 _Okay_.

“Sit.”

I sat down on the leather arm chair on the right, eyes still focused on the painting of Jareth’s mother. Removing the multi-stranded pain of a necklace, I hung it off the side edge of the chair, along with my earrings. He stalked across the room and sat across from me, sinking gracefully onto the arm chair, his knees almost touching mine. Having removed his jacket, Jareth was dressed in a tailored white shirt and the pants he wore at dinner. “Sarah?”

I looked at him, eyebrows slightly raised, shoulders tense.  

“Give me your hands.” Jareth held out his long fingered hands, looking at me expectantly.

I did as he asked, my breathing increasing slightly as I felt his warm fingers clasp mine. “What exactly does ciphering through Calestos’s eyes entail?” I asked, nervousness coating my voice. If the gods were kind, Jareth wouldn’t be able to see himself in my dream.

“You need to recall his eyes.”

The gods were kind. For once. “That’s all?”

Jareth smiled slowly. “What makes you so nervous, Sarah?” He paused, looking at me keenly.

“Many things. None of which I wish to share with you.” I spoke very sweetly, giving him a wide eyed look.

Jareth’s smile widened, showing a full set of wolfish, inhuman teeth. “Aren’t _you_ innocence personified,” his tone suggested anything but that. “I need you to picture Calestos’s eyes,” he said, getting back to the task at hand. “Close your eyes if you must.” His fingers tightened around mine.

I took his advice and closed my eyes, trying to recall the exact moment I had seen Calestos’s face in my dream.

_-“Come for me. Don’t look away now.”_

_-I implode with pleasure. I shut my eyes._

_-“So **you’re** the intriguing human Jareth has locked away.” It’s not his voice. _

_-My eyes fly open and I stare at a pair of sea-green eyes, peering down at me._

_-It’s an olive skinned man with short, curly brown hair and a classically handsome face._

_-I rush to cover myself and he laughs. “So modest.”_

_-I want to ask him who he is, but no words come out of my mouth._

_-“We shall see you in the Dark Court soon enough.”_

I focused on the pair of sea-green eyes, a dark shade of aquamarine with a few specks of gold in them. Nothing happened for a few seconds until I felt a sinking sensation all over my body.

_-I heard laughter. A male and female voice speaking in the background._

_-“We should be able to enter her mind whenever we wish,” said a high pitched, musical female voice._

_-“Fortunate discovery,” a deep male voice, deeper than Jareth’s. A flash of dark gray eyes that turned increasingly green around the pupil, non-human eyes. Straight black hair that came down to his chin._

My vision turned back to dark aquamarine color.

Opening my eyes, I was startled to find Jareth looking back at me. There was a gleam of silvery mist in his dual colored eyes that dissipated slowly. He kept looking at me for a few seconds without moving a muscle, his face perfectly impassive…and then, I felt the immensity of his rage—raw and biting, icy fury engulfed the room.

My skin froze and my fingernails turned blue. My teeth chattered as the roaring fire died, leaving the room dark. “Jareth,” I stuttered, shivering violently. “Please stop.”

Just like that the fire was back.

Jareth gave my fingers a squeeze and let me go, lounging back on his chair. My body warmed up instantly as I felt the hum of his magic tingle on my skin.

“I’m guessing that was bad,” I said, a prickle of fear shooting down my spine.

Jareth kept looking at me, his eyes containing the icy rage that I knew lingered beneath the surface. “We do not know how or why they can invade your mind easily.”

“The dark haired man, that’s Deimos,” I stated. “Who is the woman?”

 “Reyerjis.”

“And she is?” I asked loudly, raising my brows. The taciturn shtick was getting old.

“Deimos’s High Counselor who gives the term ‘sadistic’ a new meaning.” Jareth’s voice was laced with anger.

Yep, it was bad alright. “So Deimos, someone _you_ would call depraved, and Reyerjis, his _sadistic_ Counselor have easy access inside my head?”

A harsh grin. “Am I not a credible source, precious?” He leaned back, completely at ease, and threw a leg over sideways. His wild silvery hair feathered around his face and his mismatched eyes glinted with amusement. Raising his hands to his collar, he slowly started unbuttoning his tailored, form fitting shirt.

My breath caught in my throat. “What are you doing?”

Jareth raised a brow. “I am relaxing after a long day,” he said slowly, opening the second button at the base of his chest before letting his arms fall on either arm of the chair. “This may be difficult for you, but do try and keep your hands off me.”

I flushed red. Arrogant ass. “You did not answer my question.”

“Yes, as you say, they have easy access inside your head. The wards I placed should stop them, for the time being at least.”

I sighed with relief. For a second, I had believed that they could watch my every move.

Jareth eyed me with a hint of amusement that quickly turned cruel, his head tilted slightly. “You are mine to protect, _Sarah dearest_ ,” the familiar derisiveness was back in his voice. “I will not allow Deimos to defile what is mine.” He sat up straight as he spoke, his cold eyes boring into mine, both feet planted in front of him.

This wasn’t remotely the most insulting statement that Jareth had said to me. Nor was it laced with sexual innuendo like his other comments. But I suppose it was analogous to the straw that broke the camel’s back. I had had enough of Jareth, of the Labyrinth, of the Dark Court, and the Underground. _Of everything._

Something inside me snapped—everything in my head went really, really quiet as my body pumped adrenaline into my system. I had been in an utterly powerless, pathetically helpless position ever since I had arrived in the Underground, and I was fucking sick of it.

Standing up calmly, I walked over to Jareth’s chair and kneeled in front of him, my body between his legs. His eyes widened just a tad. I smiled coldly, feeling a surge of adrenaline and power at his reaction. “What if I want to be defiled?” I asked, keeping my voice husky. Placing my hands on his knees, I slowly raised myself so that my face was inches away from his. I brushed my lips against his, a soft kiss.

Slow, rumbling laughter reverberated around the room. I could almost feel his power pulsing along my skin. Almost. “I suggest you stop whatever game you’re playing, precious.”

“Do you not trust me, Jareth?” I said smiling lazily, imitating his tone and manner of speaking from earlier. I looked directly into his eyes, brows raised, before swooping in for another kiss. Jareth took in a sharp breath as I traced his lower lip with my tongue and ran my fingers down the erection straining against his tailored pants. Pulling back, I gave him a challenging look.

Jareth looked at me for a few beats before replying, his eyes completely dispassionate. “Are you aware of what you’re doing, Sarah?” His baritone voice was dead serious.

“Possibly.” Two could play the taciturn game.

A predatory smile spread ear to ear. “I shall try to dissuade you one last time, _Sarah dearest._ Be aware that the third time is your very last chance to escape.”

“I cannot escape, Jareth. Not from _you_.”

I was probably the stupidest person alive, but I didn’t care. I was too far gone.

Looking at him, my eyes hooded with an insatiable hunger for power, I sank down on my knees in front of him. My fingers worked nimbly, opening the hooks in the front of his pants, freeing his impressive length. I held him with my fingers, stroking him slowly at first, and then slightly harder, smiling in triumph as I saw Jareth lean his head against the backrest.

Keeping my eyes hooked on his, I took him in my mouth, slowly licking along the underside and swirling my tongue along the tip. My nipples peaked as I leaned into him and a dull, throbbing ache pulsed in my core. Jareth murmured something in response as I took him in further, my lips working their way up and down his length. Tangling his hands in my hair, he guided me, not too gently.

Jareth’s half shut eyes were dark with lust when I looked at him through my lashes, my lips still moving up and down, forming a tight ring around him as I sucked. His breathing had become labored and his hands were becoming forceful. I felt drunk with lust and power—that I could render the great Goblin King defenseless, even if it was only for a few moments. The gentle throbbing at my core magnified into a wet, painful need. I was sopping wet enough that my arousal drenched the fabric of my panties.

Placing his hands on around my upper arms, Jareth lifted me to my feet. And in another second I stood against the wall, my forehead touching the cool stone, with my hands flat against either side of my head and my legs apart. I could feel his heat disperse into me as he came close enough to trail his fingers down my body, dipping playfully down the curve of my back. It was only then I realized that he must have magicked away my dress and his shirt, but my shoes and panties remained.

“Where did you learn to use your mouth so well, _Sarah deares_ t?” His breath was hot against the back of my neck. Using the tips of his fingers, Jareth slowly circled my nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses on the back of my neck and shoulders, causing a low moan to escape from the back of my throat. His fingers trailed down to my stomach and hip bones.

“Filthy and corrupt enough for you?” I asked between breaths.

Low, echoing laughter. “Cruel,” he whispered against my ear, licking the spot below my earlobe that made my entire body shiver. “I did not expect cruelty from you, _dearest_.”

“Maybe I wanted to hear you scream my name when I made you come, using my mouth.” My breathing was ragged as I tossed his words back, adrenaline still pumping through my system. I was either very brave or very foolish.

Jareth ran his fingers down my slit, through my panties, the fabric causing just the tiniest bit of friction that I so severely needed. I could feel him, hard against my lower back, pulsing as he pressed himself against me tightly. “So fucking wet, aren’t you, _precious_?” He breathed against my throat before plunging a finger inside me.

I cried out, pressing myself further into the wall, my nipples now pushed against the cool stone.

“Perhaps I’ll keep you here until you beg me to fuck you,” Jareth said, his voice low against my ear, his finger moving agonizingly slow inside me. My panties, along with the rest of his clothes, were gone, and arousal dripped down my thigh. My shoes, however, remained on my feet, making me feel like I was standing on my toes. “After all, _cruelty_ is my domain far more than it is yours.” His thumb pulled the hood at the apex of my thighs, exposing my clitoris before encircling the bundle of nerves with his index finger.

I threw my head back and moaned loudly, his words and his fingers had set me on fire. Knowing that I was losing control of the situation, I spoke, trying to keep my voice steady and cool, “I’ll beg you to fuck me right now, if that’s what you want Jareth.” His movements slowed down a bit. “I thought you were more creative than that.” He resumed his ministrations, placing two fingers inside me, pumping them in and out. My body tensed as a voluptuous pressure built up, higher and higher and a series of low, throaty moans escaped my lips.

So close.

Deep, reverberating laughter. “Not at the moment, _dearest_ ” he tangled his other hand through my long hair and pulled, hard enough to cause some pain. Kissing the corner of my mouth, Jareth smiled against my skin, pulling my hips as he placed himself at my entrance. “Perhaps another time.” Saying that, he entered me, slowly-- filling me to the brim. Clasping my hands with his, he pushed me further into the wall as his lips and tongue suckled my neck.

I gasped, my voice hoarse from moaning, he was moving constantly but far too slow. _Desperately_ needing more friction, I pressed back against him with my hips, trying to get him to move faster—but I couldn’t. He had positioned me in such a way that he had complete control.

“So impatient. Let me fuck you slowly,” Jareth’s voice rumbled against my ear, his lips barely touching my skin. “I _need_ to hear you cry. You will cry out for me, won’t you, _Sarah dearest_?” His lips returned to my neck as his hands moved to cup my breasts, fingertips gently skimming over my nipples until they peaked into hardened nubs. “ _Dearest_?” he asked sharply, pinching my nipples hard enough to be painful while simultaneously biting down on my neck with his sharp teeth.

My breathing quickened to a frenzied pace as my chest rose and fell to Jareth’s rhythm. “Y- yes,” I stuttered between breaths, my eyes shut in anticipation.

I was so close.

Jareth pushed me further against the wall so that my clit came in direct contact with the cold wall.

I came hard—my orgasm crashed through my core, my inner muscles contracting around him, wringing him and triggering his release. Just like he said, I cried out as he came deep within me, pleasure tingling along my entire body, to the tips of my fingers and toes, enough so that my legs gave out. If he hadn’t been standing behind me, I would have fallen onto the ground.

In a flash, we were transported to a massive, canopied, bed with deep indigo covers, the animalistic smell of our coupling surrounding both of us. Breathing hard from my orgasm, I scooted away from Jareth instinctively, trying to take in my surroundings. I couldn’t see the rest of the room courtesy the thick canopy around the bed.

“Where the fuck are we?” I was glad my voice came out hoarse but steady. I knew we were in his room, but I asked regardless.

An amused laugh. “Not so friendly anymore, _dearest_?” Jareth made no move to come towards me.

I was suddenly very aware that I was naked, in a cage with a tiger and I had to get the hell out. The canopy around his bed felt suffocating. “Could you dress me and send me back to my room, please?”

Jareth widened his mismatched eyes, genuinely confused before amusement took over. “Here I thought you wanted to get to know my creative side.”

“Not today, _dearest_.”

Deep rumbling laughter. “If you insist, Sarah.” One moment I was sitting on Jareth’s bed and in a blink, I was dressed in my outfit from dinner, complete with the shoes and jewelry, sitting on the armchair by the fire—Jareth was seated across from me, wearing a fur lined robe. Holding out his hand and he looked at me expectantly. “Come along, then.”

I took his hand, shutting my eyes as I felt the icy wind whip through us, opening them only when I knew we were standing outside my door.

Looking at him through the corners of my eyes, I smiled to myself as I saw confusion still clouding his eyes. Perhaps my power play had worked. “Goodnight, Jareth.” I said as I stepped into my room.

“Goodnight, _Sarah dearest_.” Jareth disappeared from my view without trading any suggestive quips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of things--I've also posted this story on ffnet--I think the story's formatted better there b/c I'm more familiar with the site.
> 
> Also--I've rated this fic as explicit but this is about as graphic as I'm going to get. Should I change it to an M instead?


	13. Tread Softly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter may be too disturbing for people with claustrophobia.  
> This is probably the last time human politics gets mentioned here--the kingdoms / territories in the Underground are solely based on my imagination, they're not parallel to any modern day countries on earth.

 

**\--**

The next few weeks were surprisingly normal. Jareth had breakfast with me every morning and was nothing but the embodiment of politeness. If he felt anything at all about our heated encounter, he did not show it—save for a few glances where he looked like he was almost daring me to bring it up.

_So of course, I didn’t._

The Silver Lady had delayed her stay at court, keeping an eye on Calestos and Amer was travelling across the Goblin Kingdom, generating an inventory of fighters who could be called in case of war.

I spent five hours each morning practicing magic and the rest of the day learning about the history and geography of the Underground. With Daemora as my teacher. Quite hilarious. I’d never expected to be taught by a seventeen year old. I called the lessons Court Prep 101.

Dinners were relatively quiet affairs as there were no more visitors. I was relieved that Daemora joined us every night as there was a constant chatter of conversation, mostly regarding the feast. Jareth had miraculously managed to convince her to hold off the event until after we returned from court, but that did not stop the energetic princess from jumping headfirst into party planning.

In my lessons, I learned that the Goblin Kingdom was one of three Northwestern Kingdoms amid Nastrondis and Gaelia. To the south, across the Oceans of Eternity and Circle of Death, was Buqahar, where Amer was from, and the territory of Pyranos. The Zephyrs of Pyranos and the Ifrits of Buqahar had been at war for centuries. Across the Eastern Seas was the kingdom of Agea, the most populated kingdom in the realm, and right below it, the Inonian Isles, a territory of powerful islands. A large shipping industry kept the Inonians rich and a larger navy kept them relatively safe from the Ageans.

Further east of Agea was the kingdom of Azovi. Far East was the kingdom of Ko—an assorted group of principalities that sent an emissary to the Dark Court as a formality. South east of Agea and south west of Ko lay the Kingdom of Visanyan, the term kingdom was again used to describe a vast number of smaller kingdoms and principalities that sent one emissary to the Dark Court. Reyerjis came from a remote principality of Visanyan. Rumors spoke of how she was thrown out by the High King for perverting, what they considered, sacred magical ceremonies.

The Ageans considered themselves the frontrunners of intellect, philosophy, and art—they labeled the North Westerners as barbarians, the Easterners as savages, and the South Westerners as brainless, brutal warriors who were hell bent on destroying each other. They chose to ignore Ko and Visanyan, as long as the emissaries paid taxes and duties yearly, and they tried taking a controlling interest in keeping tensions down between Buqahar and Pyranos—though, according to Daemora, they always made matters worse. The North Westerners were considered troublesome—the Agean court had been trying to gain foothold in the Northwest by supporting the Nastrondisians, but nothing much had come from that alliance. Yet.

\--

“You don’t have to go easy on me, Princess,” I said, smiling at the silver haired girl who was showing me how to create a shield around myself. My reflecting skills were dismal so we had focused on shielding instead. Wincing as I felt a sliver of ice graze my arm, I concentrated on creating a protective layer around myself as she had taught me.

“Closing your eyes may help, Lady Sarah,” she said, whirling another shard of ice magic at me, “though I must insist that you call me Daemora.”

Closing my eyes as she said, I pictured a film safety around me, almost cocoon-like, and felt the hum of power tingle against my skin. “I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not?” she asked, sending a series of icy spikes my way, “I’ve heard you call cousin Jareth by his name and no one does that.”

My hard earned shield degenerated and I flinched as I felt my skin tear open in various places. Those spikes were sharp! “He insisted…rather persuasively.” I kept my eyes closed and reimagined my cocoon, “I didn’t have a choice.”

She laughed, a jingle of silver bells. She had moved towards my right. “I must insist as well then. Shield?” she asked, reminding me that we were in the middle of a practice session. “Except when mother is around. She is quite strict in maintaining formalities.”

“Fine,” I conceded, “but only if you call me Sarah. The term ‘lady’ annoys me to no end.” I successfully shielded the next succession of spikes.

“Really? Cousin insisted that we call you Lady Sarah because you did not like being called Defeater.” She threw another barrage of magical shards at me, this time from the back.

“I hate that too.”

“Then of course I shall call you Sarah.” She changed the tactic this time, invoking a spiral wave of magic to rush down from the top. “You can open your eyes now Sarah. You were able to shield really well.”

Opening my eyes, I looked around the practice room, alarmed at the damage inflicted on the walls. A few tapestries lay in shreds on the floor and the door had a massive dent in it. My sweater, unfortunately, had a few sharp tears along the sleeves. Daemora was correct, I _had_ been able to shield really well. “I feel like I’ll never be able to thank you enough, Daemora, for the magic and history lessons.”

She looked at me, giving her head a playful shake, her wavy silver hair flowing along her shoulders. “There’s no need, Sarah,” her icy blue eyes shone sincerely. “It’s the least I could do for cousin Jareth’s companion.”

_Cousin Jareth’s what? Dear god. Dear God, even._

I raised my brows, “Cousin Jareth’s companion?”

She looked back at me, her eyes wide and her brows furrowed. “Yes, I’m assuming you are his companion.”

I stopped myself from shaking her dainty shoulders and asking her what the hell that meant. “Why would you assume that I am your cousin’s … companion, Daemora?”

 _Jareth couldn’t have discussed his sex life with his seventeen year old cousin, could he?_ Either way, one time did not a companion make.

Daemora gave me a look that said the answer was obvious. “Because he has…” she paused, thinking of what she had to say, “I was only two years old when you defeated the Labyrinth but it was clear that you had an…effect on…” she paused again, “When you returned, Cousin Jareth started spending a lot of time with you.”

“Maybe that’s because he was dealing with the binding ceremony and court,” I said, keeping my voice matter of fact. “I’d rather not be called his companion, if you don’t mind.”

“Would you prefer to be called his lover then?”

Gaping at her, I felt my face flush bright red like it usually did. “No,” I said, putting on a stern expression, “no. _Definitely_ not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am not his lover, or companion, or mistress or every other applicable term for the word.”

Daemora’s pale blue eyes were puzzled. “But you do not have a companion, Sarah? Surely you need one.”

This conversation was getting too bizarre for words.

She continued when I did not answer, “even mother has various companions that visit the castle.”

_Good lord. I did not need to know that._

“And so does Amer. Are humans different?”

Jesus Christ.

I tried thinking of a decent answer. “Humans probably don’t need lovers at the same…frequency as the beings here.”

“But when you do require companionship, would you consider cousin Jareth?”

I was prepared with an answer this time. “Enough about me, I’m boring. Does your cousin have many companions?” I kept my tone as light as possible.

Daemora widened her eyes. “Sarah, I may not be of age but I am not naïve. Are you curious about my poor cousin?”

She’d caught me. “Of course.”

Her smile widened to show a set of teeth that hadn’t become as sharp yet. “I wouldn’t say many, but he definitely kept himself busy and he was never at the castle for dinner,” she said, a conspiratorial look in her eyes. “But after your arrival, he has been busy with tasks pertaining to you. And we all assumed that he and you…” she let that thought drift off.

 _Who the hell does ‘we all’ entail_ , I wanted to ask, but refrained myself. Her poor cousin indeed. The Goblin King had clearly had to change his lifestyle to accommodate mine and he hadn’t said a word of it. It was stupid on my part to feel guilty, as I had had to change my lifestyle far more drastically, but I felt guilty nevertheless.

“Should we practice some more before lunch?” the silver haired princess asked, back in her attack position.

I closed my eyes, visualizing my shield. “Sure.”

\--

Having changed into my pajamas after a nice long bath, I combed my hair and tied it in a loose ponytail. Today had been particularly long and grueling. After a vigorous training session, I had delved right back to studying and taking notes about the Dark Court. By ten I had become almost catatonic, so I had ended the lessons early and excused myself from dinner, opting for a tray to be brought to my room instead.

Sitting on the chair by the fire, I wrote down the day’s events in my journal as I waited for my dinner to arrive.

“Are you ill, Sarah?”

I was proud of myself for not getting startled as I heard his voice. I did not even look up from my writing. “Just tired.”

“Daemora tells me you are progressing remarkably well.”

“I now have one fourth the skills of a seventeen year old,” I deadpanned, shutting my journal and turning back to face him.

Jareth stood a few feet behind me with my dinner tray in his hands and a crooked smile on his face. He was dressed informally in a pair of tan colored pants tucked into brown riding boots and a tailored black shirt.  

“You didn’t have to bring me dinner.”

His dual colored eyes lit with delight. “I chose to.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” I stood to take the tray from him, but it disappeared and reappeared on my desk. “I’d rather you never came to my room again.”

“You seem to have missed the fact that your room is situated in _my_ castle, _dearest_.” Slow, amused laughter. “But I shall ignore it for now,” his eyes lit with cruel amusement this time. “I am curious as to why you never want me in _your_ room.”

Narrowing my eyes, I kept my temper in check. “I get that I am completely at your mercy in your castle, Goblin King,” I looked at him coldly. “But I do not want people getting the _wrong_ impression here.”

A raised brow. “Wrong impression. Do tell?”

He was making me spell it out for him, when he knew what I meant perfectly well. _Dickhead_. “Apparently the whole castle thinks we’re sleeping together.”

He gave a nonchalant shrug. “They have thought that for a while, apart from Amer, that is,” he placed his fingers on his lips, “ever since you arrived actually.”

“I’d rather they didn’t, and you bringing a food tray to my room indicates…” my voice trailed off.

“Indicates a level of intimacy you’re not comfortable with?” he finished with a smirk. “How well I know you, my _precious thing_.”

Clenching my fists, I looked at him head on. The walls were too close and the fire felt overbearingly hot. This room had been the one sanctuary where I felt completely safe, and I didn’t want to lose that feeling. “Could we not do this here?”

“Very well.” Without waiting for me to take his hand like he usually did, Jareth strode next to me and laced my fingers with his.

\--

We arrived in his private study, pale stars visible through the clear ceiling and the smell of leather bound books in the air. My dinner tray was located on the small table next to the fire.

“What do you want so late in the night, Jareth?” I sat down on the arm chair next to the table and poured myself a cup of tea.

“To prepare you for court.” He sat down next to me. “Unless you’d rather risk facing them…spontaneously.” His insinuating tone carried an unspoken threat.

I took a sip of tea and looked at him. “Couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow? I appreciate what you’ve done for me.” That was far easier to say than I thought it would be. “And I…I don’t want you to have to turn your life around because of me—keep your schedule free for yourself.”

Deep, baritone laughter. “You’re not making sense, _dearest._ ” His calculating eyes bore deeply into mine, a cat playing with a mouse.

I poured some more tea into the mug. “I’ve come to the conclusion that I cannot judge you on human standards.”

“Wise conclusion. I see you are not eating dinner.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m not hungry tonight.”

“Magical training drains humans of energy, Sarah.” He left it at that but I could hear the underlying command.

My temper rose from zero to a hundred in a flash of a second. “Stop force feeding me Jareth, I’m not a child,” I snapped.

Jareth’s dual colored eyes turned frosty but his face remained impassive. “Very well. Starve as the _adult_ that you are,” his tone had a hint of malicious humor. The dinner tray disappeared, leaving behind a fresh pot of tea. “How you fight me at every step.” His gaze was intense and his voice soft.

Flashing him an exaggerated smile, I leaned into him. “Maybe that’s what fate has planned for you and me. You should have thought twice before binding me by blood.”

A laconic brow. “Your…tempestuous demeanor attracts me, _precious_. I will not let you go because of it,” his tone was cold and detached but his eyes held burning conviction.

“I’m not taking the bait, Jareth” I told him, stopping myself from rolling my eyes. “Whether you let me go or not, I do not want you changing your...lifestyle around for my benefit.”

“What _lifestyle_ is that, Sarah?” His lips quirked with delight, as if he was secretly finding this exchange hilarious.

Having had enough of the cat and mouse game, I decided to be blunt, “Your girlfriends, boyfriends, whatever else—I talked to Daemora earlier and she gave me the impression that your kind requires regular companionship, which I took to mean sex. So please don’t stop on my behalf.”

The Goblin King stared at me for a few beats before bursting out in laughter. Rich, genuine laughter without his usual mocking edge.

“Stop laughing at me, I’m perfectly serious.”

“I cannot, _precious_ , not when your proclamations are so entertaining.”

“I would hate to inconvenience you in any way.” I kept my tone as even as possible although I was angry enough to smack him on the head.

“Perhaps you should stop listening to my seventeen year old cousin,” he smirked. “You can start asking me relevant questions instead.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Asshole.

“In any case, _Sarah dearest_ , do take _your_ pick of girlfriends, boyfriends, whatever else, as you say, when we get to court.” His eyes shone with hidden delight but his tone remained mildly reproachful, like an adult convincing a child to change the subject. “Let us get back to discussing the court, shall we?” He did not give me time to answer, “Perhaps you would like a better understanding of your role.”

Gritting my teeth, I tried to ignore that he was still laughing at me. “My role is to be some sort of weapon that you possess, that will keep Deimos at bay from attacking you or the Goblin Kingdom and messing with the power structure of the North Western kingdoms. At the same time, you do not want me to show any kind of weakness as it may be used against you…am I correct?”

Appraising me with blazing eyes, Jareth looked almost impressed. “Clever creature.”

“Yes, I know I’m clever.” Tilting my head, I evaluated his reaction as I spoke, “I don’t think that will work.”

“Why ever not, _Sarah_ _dearest?_ Do educate me on the politics of my own realm.”

I shrugged, “thousands of years of human history has proven that the whole ‘tread softly and carry a big stick’ policy never works.” I smiled triumphantly when he looked a little uncertain. “If a lunatic wants to harm you, he will harm you. Even if it is by setting himself on fire and latching on to you. Even if it means his family gets tortured to death.”

He was quiet for a few moments. “What do you suggest, my little strategist?”

 _Damned if I knew._ I had only ever taken one relevant class, Poli Sci 322, _Human History and War_ during my undergrad. And my prof was a conspiracy theorist, ‘aliens are among us,’ freak show. “How should I know?” I asked, throwing the question back at him.

“Humor me, _dearest_. What _has_ worked in the human realm?”

I laughed at that. “As of now, absolutely nothing. Territories keep escalating their weapons. Some invade others with the notion of utilizing, _read stealing_ , their resources and some invade others with the idiotic hope of changing them, but they leave nothing but death and chaos in the process. Some try creating unsustainable economic alliances among their own kind and embargos against others—they are now angry that that’s not working. Some use radical ideology as the lowest common denominator to control their masses—generating a viciously cancerous anger towards the rest of the world instead of their own corrupt governments. Basically, we’re all going to be at war with each other until human civilization, as we know it, will cease to exist.”

It was then that the Goblin King’s impassive mask fell. His mismatched eyes widened in shock and his bow shaped lips parted—I suppose this was his version of gaping. He held my gaze silently for a few moments. “You are quite cynical, _my dearest_ , for one so young.”

Shrugging not so elegantly, I grinned at him. “The best you could probably do is replace Deimos with a strong leader that the rest of Agea will support, _unquestionably_. If you were to replace him with someone who wouldn’t have the _unified_ support of Ageans, you will create far more problems for yourself.”

Jareth looked at me for a few heartbeats before a slow, cold smile tugged his lips. “You would have me assassinate Deimos and place a usurper on the throne?”

I kept smiling—it was vaguely comforting to know that I could discompose the indifferent Goblin King for once. “I wouldn’t have you do anything; I simply think that’s the best course of action.”

A wider smile, “diplomatic answer.” Pausing for a few moments, his unnerving eyes studied my face. “Most kings would have you detained and interrogated for having mentioned a strategy involving the replacement of the rightful king with a usurper, _precious_ , even if the rightful king was an enemy.” His tone may have been mild but his eyes were hooked onto my every movement.

I felt the tiny hairs on my neck and upper arms stand up as goosebumps erupted on my skin. “I may be a fool for doing so, but I’m betting _you_ won’t.”

Teeth bared, his smile turned jagged. “And why would you think that?”

Heart hammering in my chest, I remembered his words to Iselin and wondered if he would ever do the same to me. _“I suppose being buried alive in an oubliette and being bound by Ifriti fire does teach a valuable lesson_.” I decided to keep my mouth shut and shrugged—let him keep speaking before I dug my own grave.

“Perhaps I would keep you in an oubliette, _dearest_ , they are usually far narrower than the one you encountered on your first visit.”

“I don’t think you will. Threats are useless unless you carry them through, Jareth.”

A tight lipped smile and a slight widening of eyes. “Pity.”

\--

I couldn’t see, nor could I move—cold stone walls pressed lightly against my body from all angles. A single ray of pale light trickled in from above my head. One second I had been sitting with Jareth in his study, and in another, I was in some kind of a small, concrete box with a keyhole air vent on the top. By the feel of it, I was in an upright, coffin sized box in the ground.

_Holy shit. He’d actually done it. The son of a bitch had actually put me in an oubliette._

Tilting my head towards the air vent on top of my head, I took in deep breaths, fighting off the sudden, rampant claustrophobia that had started gnawing my mind.

_-Buried alive in an oubliette._

Illusion—I told myself—the walls were not closing in on me, it was only an illusion. _Just breathe._

_-Buried alive._

I quelled the screams that were bubbling up my throat. Breathe, Sarah, just take deep breaths.

_-Buried alive._

I tried going over song lyrics and poetry in my head slowly, keeping my breathing steady.

_-It's a place you put people... to forget about 'em!_

That couldn’t be it—Jareth had invested far too much to simply forget about me. I felt my knees brush against the concrete and a tidal wave of claustrophobia hit me, fear making my stomach churn. The walls were closing in, as was the air vent. I was going to suffocate.

_-Buried alive._

Did he want me to beg him to release me? To shout? To thrash around and panic? Well, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to picture some of my favorite memories.

_-I’m walking through the old quarters of Seville looking oh-so-American in my shorts and tank top, a ratty backpack on my shoulders. I’m with my group of friends from Huntington Prep and we decide to hop into every bar and try a drink instead of visiting the Alcazar. We’re a bunch of unapologetic philistines and we couldn’t care less._

_-I’m at an inter-county swim championship. “I won second place, Sar.” The kid is so excited, his blond curls plastered to his forehead. “Next year, I’ll win first.”_

_-The dark haired man is making his signature avocado and walnut salad, taking a sip of Chianti. I think I love him at this moment and it fills me with bittersweet dread. “Help me out, you lazy ass,” he says, a smile on his lips._

_-“Your mother might be gone, but I will always be here for you, Sarah.” My father looks at me with serious eyes. “Always.”_

_-“Sarah, are you … stoned?” Karen sounds speechless. I giggle, “n…n…noo,” I giggle some more. “Oh for the love of,” she rolls her eyes, “you are to go straight to your room, young lady, or your father will lecture you for hours.” She helps me to my room and brings me her signature lasagna along with a piece of chocolate cake. “I’m sure you could use some food right now.” I give her a hug and she hugs me back._

“Tell me Sarah, what do you think of my oubliette?”

_-“Tell me Sarah, what you think of my labyrinth?”_

“Fucking piece of cake, Jareth,” I retorted in a sing-song voice, with an edge of burgeoning hysteria.

“I’m impressed.” He must have been standing right above me as the light flickered through the air vent over my head. “Here I had expected you to crumble within minutes.”

“That’s me. The impressive and clever Sarah Williams.”

I heard a metallic creak of the latch above my head being opened. Jareth held my shoulders with his slim fingers and lifted me slowly, my body scraping against the concrete. By the time he pulled me out completely, my pajamas were torn in more than a few places and I could feel blood running down a few cuts here and there. I couldn’t see anything as we were in a room that was pitch black, except for the small ray of light meant solely for the oubliette.

“I shall take you to your room.”

\--

I ran as far from Jareth as I could the second we sifted back into my room. Not so much because I was afraid of him, but because I had the distinct urge to slap him hard across the face…which probably wouldn’t end too well for me.

“I don’t know what that was about, but please leave,” my voice was clipped and my eyes constricted in anger.

“You are hurt.”

 _No shit Sherlock_. “Get out.”

“Oh stop being so dramatic, _precious_. I was merely testing your reaction to sudden stress, especially after you were so convinced I wouldn’t put you in an oubliette. I will not leave before healing you.” His voice was lightly cajoling—I felt a hum of power zip up my arms.

I looked at myself, hissing when I saw the damage the oubliette had done. Blood soaked bits of pajamas clung to my thighs and droplets of blood ran down my fingers from the cuts in my arms. When I looked up, Jareth was standing right beside me. “Leave.”

“You may not like me for doing this, but I refuse to leave without healing you, Sarah.”

Just like that, the hum of power surrounded me and I couldn’t move. “Fuck you, you arrogant asshat,” but, as it turned out, I could speak.

Jareth smiled amusedly as he ran his fingers lightly down my legs, his power prickling my skin as he touched me. “Is that an invitation, _dearest_?”

If I could have moved, I would have ripped my hair apart…or possible his hair apart in anger. “Let me rephrase that, go fuck yourself you sadistic freak.”

His face was suddenly close, his nose almost touching mine, his hands on my shoulders. “You may be subjected to far worse at court, Sarah, I needed to know how you would conduct yourself. I would never harm my _precious_ _heroine_.” He ran his fingers down my arms, healing the cuts and mending my pajamas.

Pursing my lips into a thin, angry line, I glared at him with rage. “You _have_ harmed me. Multiple times,” I told him with a cold smile. “Healing me afterwards does not count.”

“Such righteous fury,” his murmured, inching even closer, his lips almost touching mine. “I can feel your blood running hot in your veins.” His breath tingled against my skin. _Was he going to kiss me after throwing me in an upright coffin?_ “I can feel your heart beating against your chest…and your eyes…so beautifully cruel.” He pulled back, his eyes darkening with an unnamed hunger.

_Apparently, he wasn’t going to kiss me._

“Pussy,” I scoffed at him, looking defiant.

The Goblin King went very still, his face starkly angled. “Something you wish to say to me, _dearest_?”

I laughed a high pitched, sarcastic laugh. “I don’t wish to _say_ anything, I’m calling you a pussy,” I spoke with my voice low and steady. “Kiss me, or let me go. Don’t pretend to kiss me and pull back the last second.”

\--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have any questions? Do review or PM.
> 
> Answers to some questions I've received via PMs.  
> -Was Sarah's family really rich? Not really-upper middle class so prep schools and private colleges, but not the Kennedys rich. I didn't make her normal, middle class b/c she wouldn't have taken the deal then. One of her main reasons is so Toby doesn't have to take a loan for college-which, I'm guessing, would not be such a big deal for most middle class people in the US. Her mother's side is super rich, though that's not really relevant to the story.
> 
> -Language: I grew up in the Southern US but am Canadian and have lived across the world. My spellings are mostly American but some phrases probably sound really old school and colonial.
> 
> -Why is Sarah so confident in terms of her looks? I'm basing it on the actor playing Sarah-she was a pretty kid who grew up to be a gorgeously tall and thin woman. The whole 'boohoo boys don't notice me, I'm going to hang out in the library- Sarah' kinda always felt like a self insert to me.


	14. Strategic Plans

_“Kiss me, or let me go. Don’t pretend to kiss me and pull back the last second.”_

“You are trying to provoke me, Sarah.” His voice was so low that I could barely hear it as he traced my lower lip with his fingers. “Not exactly a sensible decision on your part, but I _am_ curious as to what you think you’re going to achieve?”

_Good question. What was I trying to do? Rouse him to react? Make him shed his mask? Shove me onto the floor and take me right then and there? All three of the above?_

“I don’t know,” I replied, blushing profusely while simultaneously cursing my traitorous thoughts. “I’m fairly pissed about the oubliette.”

“I long to do much more than kiss you, Sa-rah,” he murmured, drawing out my name. His face was close enough that I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck.

“Jareth…” Blood roared in my ears as his eyes darkened. My lips parted.

He pulled back suddenly with a smirk on his face. “But I do recall you telling me, in no uncertain terms, to _get out_.”

I growled, baring my ~~not-so-sharp~~ straight, white, American teeth. He’d almost kissed me. Again. “Stop fucking with my head Jareth.”

Deeply amused laughter. “Your crudeness is quite entertaining, precious thing. I cannot wait to see the reaction you receive at Court.” Jareth’s lips twisted into sharp smile. “While I _am_ pleased you are less afraid of me, I would advise you to practice some level of caution, Sarah. I am not always in control of my reactions where you are concerned. You don’t want to end up in a narrow little oubliette, now do you?”

“Duly noted,” I replied quickly. I _was_ less afraid of him than when I’d first arrived, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t afraid. It was unnerving how he was able to uncover my feelings before I could. It felt as if he was three steps ahead of me at all times, and he could predict all of my moves.

A loud knock interrupted my thoughts and I panicked. I did _not_ want anyone finding Jareth in my room. “What are we going to do?” I whispered furiously. “You can’t be here.”

He shrugged, completely nonchalant. “Why not?”

“Jareth,” I whispered, “do something!”

Raising an amused brow, Jareth looked at the door. “Come in,” he said loudly. Smiling at my indignant expression, he raised his brows, “you did tell me to ‘do something’ precious.”

_Ugh. Arrogant. Conceited. Manipulative. Ass._

A discontented Amer strode into my room, shutting the door behind him. “You are late for your meeting with Beina Nae, Your Majesty.” If he was surprised to find Jareth in my room, he didn’t show it. Turning to me, he nodded, “Lady Sarah.”

I blanched upon hearing the head priestess’s name. In a place full of frightening creatures, she was probably the most frightening of the lot.

“Ran away, did you?” Jareth drawled, amused.

Amer wasn’t. “Absolutely. I have no doubt she will grace my nightmares tonight.”

“Come now, General,” light danced in the Goblin King’s dual eyes. “She’s hardly the same witch from your childhood nightmares.”

_I felt suffocated with both of them standing in my room._

Trying to draw attention, I coughed. “It’s been a long day…” _and I’d be happy if both of you left my room_. I couldn’t complete my thought as a frenzied laugh started bubbling up my throat. Breathing hard, I tried calming my nerves.

“I apologize for barging into your quarters Lady Sarah,” Amer’s tone was contrite. “Your Majesty, if you would-” he was interrupted by my loud, cheery, almost hysterical laughter.

Jareth’s eyes widened as his implacable mask slipped for just a few seconds. “Sarah…”

“Lady Sarah,” the General spoke, alarmed, “are you well?”

_Nope. I’ve probably lost my mind._

Walking backwards, I leaned against the far wall, still laughing like a lunatic. “So ironic,” I wheezed between breaths, turning to face Amer. “It’s funny that you run away from your childhood nightmare Amer, while _I_ seem to run _towards_ mine.” I looked at Jareth pointedly, a wide smile on my face.

There was pin drop silence for a few moments before the General’s somber voice broke the quietness. “May I ask what transpired here?” He was looking at my hand—the back of which was scraped and bloodied. Jareth probably hadn’t gotten around to healing that part.

I knew the General wasn’t speaking to me, but I answered nonetheless. “The Goblin King gave me an impromptu lesson on – I don’t exactly know what – _torture_?”

Raising his brows, the amber eyed General gave Jareth an incredulous look. “Torture?”

Jareth shrugged elegantly. “Don’t give me that look Amer—I gave her a shortened version of the standard oubliette training that we’ve all gone through. The Silver Lady used the oubliette on me by the time I was of ten winters.” He calmly walked over and caught my wrist, healing the last bit of torn skin on my hand.

“Humans are-” the General still looked incredulous at the King’s lack of remorse.

Jareth raised a hand, cuing him to stop talking. “Yes, humans are different,” he turned his indifferent gaze on me, “Daemora survived in an oubliette for three days when she was of twelve winters.”

I gaped, effectively horrified. “Twelve? You buried her alive for three days when she was only twelve?”

A twisted smirk. “Not me personally, but yes. She is the next in line to the throne, Sarah. There’s no room for weaknesses.” His smirk widened as I kept staring at him, shaken. “Oubliettes are renowned for being – shall we say – our chosen method of tormenting our enemies. We need to be able to withstand the effects.”

“You mean that you have to be able to withstand the torture you dish out?” Running a shaky hand through my hair, I held his gaze. “That’s absolutely barbaric.”

The Goblin King’s dual eyes hardened as he flashed his teeth in contempt. “You are in a _barbaric_ , as you say, world now, Sarah. You can choose to be stronger or perish.”

Repressing a violent shudder, I simply stood there, too stunned to speak.

“Jareth,” Amer’s voice was soft; this was the first time I’d heard him use Jareth’s given name. “Humans are fragile of mind. You are well aware of the disastrous repercussions of such fragility.” He turned his amber eyes at me for a few moments before turning back to Jareth. “Beina Nae expects you at the fire grove.” Giving me a quick nod, the General disappeared in a blaze.

I shut my eyes—leaning against the wall, trying to stabilize my breathing. _Get yourself together, Williams_!

“Sarah…” the Goblin King’s dulcet voice was low as he stood in front of me, holding my shoulders with his gloved hands. “Look at me.”

I did as he asked, peering into his mismatched eyes, surprised to detect concern instead of indifference. “I think I’m going to perish, Jareth.”

 “You’re stronger than you realize.”  His voice was impersonal but there was something in his eyes—the same look he got every time I mentioned the binding ceremony—was it _guilt_? Surprised that the Goblin King could feel such an emotion, I tried getting my head under control.  This could be used to my advantage.

“Maybe I’m not that strong,” I said softly, my eyes wide, hoping the Goblin King would take the bait.

A slow smile. “You’re Sarah Williams. The girl who ate the peach, _twice_.” Still holding my shoulders with his hands, Jareth led me to the bed and sat next to me. “You survived the binding ceremony _and_ a paradox spell,” his smile widened, showing a hint of teeth. “Remarkably imprudent on your part—running into the Labyrinth like that.”

Returning his smile, I changed the direction of the conversation. “It was _remarkably imprudent_ on my part to jump you as well but I did it anyway.”

Jareth threw his head back and roared with laughter. “I did warn you to try and keep your hands off of me, precious, yet you couldn’t resist.”

_He was a conceited ass, but he was correct. Jumping him had been my call._

I decided to keep the conversation playful. “The tension was getting to me. Had to get you out of my system.”

Jareth roared with laughter again. “Happy to be of service, precious.” He pulled the blanket so he could place me under the convers. “Sleep.” Holding my gaze as he smoothed some flyaway strands of my hair, he stood up to leave.

_This was my chance!_

Lacing my fingers around his wrist, I looked at him pleadingly…as pleadingly as I could manage. _Take the bait, Goblin King—it’s me, Sarah Williams, the wide-eyed fifteen year old in the fluffy, marshmallow gown_. “Could you do me a favor, Jareth?”

A raised brow, “that depends, precious.”

“Could I speak to the Labyrinth?” I held my breath.

He looked at me for a few beats, his face neutral. “Of course,” he crooned. “I shall take you to the heart day after. Sleep now.”

I felt the low hum of his magic buzz against my skin before falling asleep.

I dreamt of soft waves splashing against an empty beach.

\--

Feeling very refreshed after a good night’s sleep, I walked to the Great Hall for breakfast, surprised when I found the dining table empty…save for the Silver Lady. I hadn’t seen her in a while so sitting across from the tall Amazonian woman was intimidating to say the least. Dressed in a simple white dress with her silver locks flowing freely onto her shoulders, she should have looked less threatening. She didn’t.

“So…” I began awkwardly, but couldn’t think of anything to say. “So how was court?” I asked her after a few moments, cutting the fruits on my plate into tiny pieces. _Just how did a kingdom so cold have so many tropical fruits anyway_ , I mused.

Her silver tinged lips twitched slightly, forming a faint but familiar smirk. “More trouble than it’s worth.”

“Business as usual then?” I was babbling like an idiot.

“So to speak.” The Silver Lady’s deep voice was abrupt

 _Okay then_. Being generally taciturn was a family trait. I reverted back to massacring various fruit pieces into pulp.

“The King tells me you advocate replacing Deimos instead of a grandiose display of power.”

 _Note to self—do not offer Jareth political advice ever_.

I looked at her, wide eyed. This was how I’d ended up in the oubliette with Jareth. Something told me she’d keep me there much longer than he had. “I had no idea it was considered such an offense Silver Lady. I wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise.”

“Answer the question.”

Well, technically she hadn’t asked a question, but I refrained from telling her so. “Not exactly,” I replied, sighing in defeat.  “I said that if he _were_ to replace Deimos, it would have to be someone who was unanimously approved by the Ageans. I don’t know about the Underground, but it’s damn near impossible to find such a leader Above.”

She looked at me impassively, her iridescent eyes boring holes into my skull. “Explain.”

I groaned—should have taken more history classes. “Substituting regimes and installing pet dictators, kings if you will, will almost always come back to-” _how did I say this tactfully_ , “bite you in the ass.”

Her lips swept upwards into what would have been a smile on someone else’s face. On hers it was a chilling display of razor sharp teeth. “What do _you_ suggest then Defeater?”

_Hell, why I hadn’t taken a single history class in college._

“I’m not an expert, but I believe that destroying his influence from within the Dark Court and ultimately, the Agean Court would render him powerless more efficiently.”

The smile faded from her face as she narrowed her gaze, studying me. “Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye, Defeater.”

I grimaced automatically when she called me Defeater. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I have been informed that you do not appreciate being called the Defeater. I shall call you Lady Sarah if you wish,” she said, tilting her head challengingly. “Although I am perplexed as to why you would choose such a simple title instead of a more victorious one.”

 _Well_. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“Oh, you hadn’t?” her mocking tone was jarringly familiar. She continued speaking when I didn’t say anything. “You are the sole champion of the Labyrinth, _Lady_ Sarah—and you are the sole survivor of the binding ceremony.” She appraised me slowly, “I have no doubt you will prove yourself successful.” Standing up, she nodded lightly, bidding me farewell. “I shall see you after you return from Court.”

I stared at the Silver Lady as she sifted out of the Great Hall, replaying her words in my head.

 _“You are the sole champion of the Labyrinth,_ Lady _Sarah—and you are the sole survivor of the binding ceremony…I have no doubt you will prove yourself successful.”_

That was a hell of a compliment coming from her.

\--

Making my way through the grand corridors, I stepped into the practice room, ready for another day of practice.

“I need a refresher on attacks-” my voice dried up when I saw Jareth standing in front of me, grinning from ear to ear. He was dressed in a form fitting white shirt tucked into perfectly tailored, royal blue pants over short boots. His team of tailors would probably put Tom Ford’s team of tailors to shame.

Jareth looked adequately entertained by my reaction. “Should I be afraid?”

Composing myself, I ignored his question. “Where is Daemora?”

“She’s at the fire grove outside the castle,” he walked up to me. “You can practice with me.”

 _Not if I can help it_. “That’s a bad idea.”

“You’re not _afraid_ of practicing with me, are you, precious?” he mocked lightly, knowing full well that I was.

 _Ass_.

“I can barely block Daemora’s magic, how can I practice with you?” I argued.

Jareth took no notice of my concerns as he stalked across the room and stood by the fireplace at the far end. “Come now, Sarah, let’s begin.”

 _Jesus_. I wasn’t prepared for this. “Wait a second!”

Once again, Jareth wasn’t remotely concerned, “We shall begin with compulsion.” He grinned, a little too maliciously, at my alarm. “Come to me Sarah,” he commanded as if he was Dracula.

I felt the familiar vibe of his magic coil around my legs and my feet started walking towards him, one after the next, by their own accord. _Holy crap_.

“How do I stop?” I yelped, fear clearly evident in my voice. “Jareth!”

Deep rumbling laughter. “You need to fight me, precious.”

“Very funny Jareth. You could have given me a warning,” I said through gritted teeth, trying my best to stop.

“But this is _so_ much more entertaining.”

Closing my eyes, I visualized a physical shield around myself—a force field that would stop me from moving towards Jareth.

Nothing happened.

“Come, come, _precious creature_ , you _have_ fought against me before, haven’t you?”

“And won,” I bit out, noticing that I’d slowed down a little. Shutting my eyes, I imagined a stronger shield.

“However did you manage that?” Jareth drawled, not bothering to hide the vicious glee in his tone. “It looks like I can make you walk right into the fireplace and you wouldn’t lift a finger to fight back.”

My anger turned into a blazing inferno of rage.

Opening my eyes, I glared at the Goblin King with burning anger laced with a healthy dose of fear. I had no doubt that he was perfectly capable of making me fling myself into the open flame and heal me later.

_I wasn’t going to let him do that._

“You have no power over me,” I practically snarled -- and just like that, I fell onto the cold stone floor, as if I’d been pushed by an invisible force.

Jareth just stood there, immaculate and unfazed. “Took you long enough. Dust yourself and walk back to your initial position.”

I glared at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I was going to get some nasty bruises from that fall.

A sharp laugh. “No dearest, I am not _fucking kidding_ you. Walk back so we may try again.” His dual gaze sharpened. “ _Now_.”

\--

By ten in the night, I felt bruised, battered and I was barely able to stand. I had been able to block some mild compulsions but Jareth could pretty much make me throw myself out of the window if he used stronger magic. One had to start somewhere, I suppose.

“Back to the beginning, Sarah,” Jareth said tersely as I tried pulling myself up. The asshole looked perfect, he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

Blood rushed to my head as I stood up suddenly, making me lose my balance.

“You have to be faster than that.”

 _That did it._ “Can you wait a bit, _please_?” I said loudly. “I barely have the strength to stand.”

“Get up,” Jareth snapped “keep your eyes open.”

“I can’t concentrate hard enough with open-”

Lips curling into a sneer, Jareth laughed harshly, “Stop being such a weakling, Sarah, _Defeater of the Labyrinth_.” His tone dripped with disdain. “Fight back.”

_Fight back? I wanted to fucking kill him._

Standing up straight, I glared at him, “Fine!” I visualized a shield with my eyes open and then I imagined shoving the shield right in his smug face.

I felt a shift in energy as Jareth’s eyes widened in surprise and he took a fraction of a step back. “Remarkable, you seem to have made some progress.”

I should have taken that as a cue to stop but my temper had already been ignited. Gritting my teeth, I repeated the process, shoving the shield with even more force than earlier.

Smiling savagely enough to show an impressive display of his spikey teeth, Jareth took another step back and chuckled. “Stop, precious, you’ve proven your strength.”

Baring my teeth, I returned his smile. “Glad you approve.” It was a lame comeback, but I had to say something. “Anything else you’d like to help me learn, Your _Supreme_ Highness?”

Jareth ignored my sarcasm and walked up to me calmly, “Yes. We need to cover what’s expected of you at the Court.” That’s all he said before holding my hand with his and sifting us to the atrium.

\--

I frowned as Jareth flopped elegantly onto an arm chair while I fell into mine in a crumpled heap. Grabbing a goblet of wine that had appeared on the small table next to me, I took a large gulp before digging into a bowl of delicious risotto—incidentally, my favorite dish. It probably had a million calories.

“So how exactly are you going to teach me ‘court protocol’ in the next few hours?” I asked, curious. It felt like I was playing Eliza Doolittle to his really fucked up Henry Higgins.

Jareth raised a laconic brow, “I thought I’d already established that I don’t care for protocol.”

“So…how am I supposed to greet people?”

“Like you would in your world. Really, Sarah, I thought we’d already covered this part. I did not expect you to be so… _slow_.” Jareth’s eyes lighted with amusement as he toyed with me.

I gave him a tight lipped smile. “I have no idea what I should call people and I’m sure Deimos will not appreciate being called ‘hey you.’ Am I supposed to curtsey, bow, or touch my head to the ground when I’m introduced to him?”

Jareth waved off my concerns with indifference. “Call them by their title. Deimos will introduce himself as High King—so call him High King Deimos and nod your head. Stop _complicating_ matters.” A mocking smile twisted his lips. “Why do you assume you’d have to _curtsey_ to Deimos…have you seen any women curtsey in the Underground?” He scoffed elegantly, when I didn’t answer. “We do not care for the ridiculous customs adopted by monarchs of the human realm.”

I counted to ten. Slowly. “Then what the fuck did you mean by ‘we need to cover what’s expected of you at the Court’?”

“Communication and security. Our… _connection_.”

 _Of course, he could have just told me that from the beginning_. I took another big gulp of wine. “You need to do a better job of explaining things, Jareth. This is getting tedious.”

His lips twitched, like he was suppressing a smile. “Very well. You, my precious creature, are very easily manipulated,” he held up a hand when I tried interrupting, “furthermore, you do not realize _when_ you’re being manipulated. I need to be able to give you…fair warning on how to deal with the actors of Court.”

I seethed. He was making me sound really stupid. “I am not some naïve idiot that needs hand holding, Jareth.”

Jareth chuckled. “Perhaps not. But you are _delightfully_ innocent, my dearest. So much so that my seventeen-year-old cousin can manipulate you.”

I frowned. ‘Delightfully innocent’ was just code word for ‘fucking idiot.’ “Daemora…really, how?”

Eyes twinkling with hidden mirth, the stark lines of his face softened a little. “Daemora grew up learning about the ‘girl who ate the peach and danced with the King’ from the goblins. When you came back—she was…fascinated with you.”

I stared, speechless. “Goblins?” I hadn’t expected goblins to tell stories about me.

“Yes, goblins. They call you the Lady of the Labyrinth. Unfortunately, Daemora is also captivated by mortal stories of star crossed love.” Jareth raised a brow as if to say ‘you see where I’m going with this.’

Good lord. Raising my brows, I tried thinking of stories of obsessive love that would appeal to teenagers. “Uh like Twilight?”

“Like Romeo and Juliet—courtly honor, love, hate, and obsession.”

I snorted. “That’s worse than new adult fiction.”

Jareth raised a quizzical brow. “I must confess, I am not familiar with the story behind Romeo and Juliet apart from the fact that it ends in death.”

“It’s a silly story,” I told him, rolling my eyes. “Romeo and Juliet are school aged, hormonal teenagers, who’re dumb enough to kill themselves on a fleeting whim. That’s not love, it is stupidity.”

Jareth looked amused as I paused for a breath.

“The concept of ‘courtly honor’ is problematic enough to begin with, but the whole ‘my only love sprung from my only hate’ thing is _ridiculous_.” I’d only ever read Romeo and Juliet in the ninth grade, but I had written an essay on the general senselessness of Romeo’s actions. Mr. Stout, the teacher, hadn’t appreciated it.

Jareth looked even more amused. “You do not have to convince me, precious. In any case, Daemora assumes, _for mysterious reasons_ , that you and I are star crossed lovers…or some such.”

I laughed loudly at the notion while Jareth wore an expressionless face. “That explains all the questions about dating apps and suitors.”

A slow smile. “That was for my benefit.”

“And telling me that everyone assumes we’re lovers—that was for my benefit?”

“Yes.”

I couldn’t help but laugh some more. “She is _good_.” I was impressed but also embarrassed at the thought of a kid trying to set me up.

“That she is,” Jareth agreed, “where you’re concerned.” He studied me for a few moments, “She is so easily forgiven.” It was an observation, not a question.

Smiling widely, I shrugged. “She’s a kid. And she makes living here bearable—will she be around tomorrow?”

“No. She is with the Bone Priestesses at the fire grove.” He stopped me from asking any more questions with a sharp gesture. “Do not ask why, Sarah, you will not appreciate the answer. You would not _appreciate_ our inhuman customs.”

That was the end of that topic—so I changed the subject. “I can’t even make out the behavior of a seventeen-year-old,” I mused, “how the _hell_ am I going to survive at Court?”

_So much for not being a naïve idiot._

Jareth’s eyes glittered with an emotion close to triumph. “That’s where our connection comes in.”

I sighed. Jareth and his confusing terms. “When you say ‘our connection’ you mean that I’m bound to you? How does that help?”

Evaluating me with narrowed eyes, Jareth looked like he was considering what to say. _‘I can speak to you directly through your mind, precious.’_

I took in a sharp breath and my eyes widened when I realized that he hadn’t spoken the words aloud. What else could he do? Implant memories directly into my head? Clenching my fists, I tried my best to calm down…freaking out about it wouldn’t help me in the slightest.

“That will take some getting used to,” I said—in the most detached tone I could muster.

 _‘Perhaps with some practice.’_ He grinned sharply when I winced _. ‘Do I have your permission?_ ’

Jesus. It was like having a permanent earpiece…with Jareth on the other end. But he _was_ being courteous enough to ask for my permission, especially considering that he did not require it.

“Yes,” I said, trying not to sound too defeated, “I suppose your psychic leash can be very useful. Maybe you can help prevent me from being a naïve idiot and such.”

Soft laughter. “That is not what it’s called, precious; though it is probably close enough.” He leaned against the backrest languidly, his head thrown back and his eyes shut. “As I said, you’re more innocent than naïve.”

“Same difference.”

A slow smile, “As you wish, precious.” He ran an elegant hand through his wild mane. “I shall take you to the heart of the Labyrinth tomorrow morning. It’s best that we leave before breakfast.”

_I’d almost forgotten…though obviously, he hadn’t._

“I wonder which Jareth I’ll meet tomorrow…” I pondered aloud, eyes fixated on the Goblin King. He looked almost angelic with silvery gold hair feathered around his head. _Almost_ being the key word.

Tilting his head, Jareth opened his eyes and grinned at me wolfishly, destroying any resemblance to anything remotely angelic. “Whatever do you mean, Sa-rah?”

 _I meant to keep my mouth shut_. “You play different roles with all of us.”

A raised brow. “Explain.”

“You’re the dutiful king with the Silver Lady—the spoiled brat with Amer—the responsible king with Daemora…and a,” what could I say, a combination of magical Hannibal Lector and scary Legolas? He wouldn’t appreciate that.

“Yes?” His tone had a hint of impatience.

I clicked my teeth nervously. “Er…”

Jareth smirked. “Your thoughts are very enlightening.” He appraised me intensely, “Allow me to make it easier for you: what would you like me to be?”

This conversation had the potential to turn dangerously slippery. “Let’s not get into that,” I replied lightly, “I’m freaked out enough that you’ve been sort of nice to me for twenty four- make that twenty six hours.”

Grinning sharply, Jareth sat up straight, his burning gaze fully focused on my every movement. “Perhaps I’m trying to sway you in my favor for whatever you are going to ask of the Labyrinth tomorrow, _Sarah dearest_.” His tone had gone from slightly amused to deathly calm.

_Williams, you’re proving yourself to be an idiot in more ways than one. He’d noticed. Of course he’d noticed._

Keeping the escalating panic out of my face, I held his gaze unflinchingly. “Maybe you’ve succeeded,” I retorted, imitating his tone.

Jareth stared at me for a few heartbeats before barking with laughter, his predatory teeth in full view. “Extraordinary answer, Sarah.” He looked impressed as he jumped up from the chair and held out a leather clad hand, “Come, I shall escort you to your room.”

 _Hell no._ After spending the entire day with him, I needed a break. “I’ll walk,” I replied quickly, “I could use the exercise.”

“Here I thought you could barely stand.”

Rolling my eyes, I stood up and headed to the door. “That was before eating a super heavy dinner. I’d rather burn some calories by walking back.”

Jareth’s lips quirked into a smile. Maybe a genuine one. “I do not follow.”

“Humans have this unremarkable potential to store fat in the most unseemly places…unless we exercise,” I explained. “Anyway, it’s best if I walk back.”

“If you insist…I shall collect you in the morning.”

I smiled at the quick dismissal. Maybe he needed a break from me as well.

“Good night,” I called cheerfully, shutting the massive door behind me.

\--

Fortunately, Jareth hadn’t given much thought to my journal. While I hadn’t written anything directly incriminating, I _had_ outlined several observations about him, observations that could be considered weaknesses, specifically.

The obvious problem was that he didn’t have any _significant_ weaknesses apart from being bound to me. That meant that my death would deteriorate him considerably, but it wouldn’t kill him. Obviously, I couldn’t use my own death against him. I had a feeling I’d learn much more about Jareth’s weaknesses at the Dark Court.

I sighed. Odds were, he had probably already figured what I was up to—and he was probably _letting_ me speak to the Labyrinth just to study my actions.

I had to strategize and maneuver my plan very carefully. I had to let him believe that I was oblivious to his knowledge of my plans…all the while figuring out how to get out of his contract.

Smiling to myself, I put my journal away. I had no idea whether I could stomach being the Labyrinth’s vessel if it meant having to look at the runners…but I hadn’t decided to forfeit that particular contract yet. I had, however, decided that I would most certainly try and find a way to invalidate my contract with Jareth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: S has a plan. This was a bit of a filler chapter. Hopefully the next one will have more action.   
> Based on a PM—why doesn’t Jareth wear poet shirts in this fic?  
> Poet shirts remind me of the Seinfeld episode about the puffy pirate shirt. I can totally see J stomping his feet, yelling, ‘but I don’t wanna be a pirate!’


	15. Loyalty

**\--**

I cursed cryptic Jareth and his equally cryptic maze. The question and answer session with the Labyrinth had been completely useless. And the second we sifted back to my room, Jareth started harassing me about leaving for the Agean Court. With no warning whatsoever.

Throwing in two swimsuits, a pair of running shorts, a few dry-fit sports bras, and my sunglass case into an oversized Longchamp tote, I zipped it shut with all my might. Agea was supposed to be pleasantly warm and I could use some sun after being cooped up in this castle for so long.  

“Hurry up Sarah,” the Goblin King snapped from inside the room. He turned to me sharply, looking very annoyed when I strode in with my overstuffed tote, “everything you require has already been sent.”

“You didn’t even tell me we were leaving today,” I accused. “I doubt the maids included any exercise clothes or swimsuits.” Apparently, the seamstress had created an entire wardrobe, just for the Dark Court and all of my things had already been sent so I could travel luggage-free. 

Jareth raised a laconic brow. “Are you _finished_?”

I bristled at his tone. How dare the son-of-a-bitch sound so beleaguered when _I_ was the one being harassed! “I still have to take a bath and get ready, Your Highness, so you can-”

Before I could finish the sentence, the yoga pants and t-shirt I’d worn had disappeared, replaced by a pair of pajama pants, a soft, full sleeved top, and a pair of indoor slippers. I noted wryly that my sports bra had been replaced by a normal one, which meant he’d changed my panties as well. I felt very, very clean.

“Now?” He raised a sly brow, undoubtedly thinking that I’d throw some kind of a hissy fit.

I didn’t. “You could have just done that in the beginning, you know,” I said, unable to keep sarcasm out of my voice. “Nice outfit though,” I said, looking over the clothes he had chosen. “So, Deimos sees me in my PJs and thinks I couldn’t possibly be some kind of Labyrinth fueled weapon-of-mass-destruction?”

“This ensemble is for your comfort, Sa-rah.” Jareth smiled wide enough to show a flash of teeth. “You will dress… _differently_ for your trial,” the dulcet tone of his voice insinuated something mysteriously depraved.

I decided to change the subject. “Getting back to the main point, you could have told me that we were leaving for Court today and that I was going to be put on _trial_!”

“Trial is only a formal term, _precious_. Do not take it too seriously.” Jareth gave me a side long glance as he interlaced his leather clad fingers with mine, “And telling you earlier would have increased your anxiety.” With that, he sifted us into the sitting area of his apartments.

\--

General Amer stood by the fireplace wearing full body armor made of black leather, with a few silver accents. The weapons he usually carried on his body were well hidden but a massive sword was strapped diagonally across his back. Giving me a quick nod, he focused his attention on Jareth. “Security measures have been organized at the Marble Palace.”

Jareth raised a brow. “The borders?”

“Secured.”

The Goblin King seemed satisfied with the answer. In a flash of light, he too was dressed in a similar armor, except his seemed to have decorative epaulettes on the shoulders. If he had any weapons, they were well hidden.

“Sarah, we have to leave immediately,” Jareth’s voice held just a tiny bit of agitation, “I shall now place you in a state of somnolence and weave several protective spells around you.”

_Wait, what?!_

“Hold up,” I said disbelievingly, scuttling a good distance away from both of them. “You’re not doing anything until you tell me what the hell is going on.” I looked at Amer for some empathy because I knew I wouldn’t get any from Jareth. “I had no idea we were even heading to Agea until ten minutes ago.”

Jareth made an impatient gesture with his hands.

“Deimos demanded your presence, Lady Sarah, immediately. Were we to delay now, we would be at a disadvantage. Somnolence is necessary for you to travel through the veil.”

I raised my brows. “Travel through the veil? Will someone explain what that entails?” I turned to Jareth, who only shrugged.

“Time is of the essence, Lady Sarah, so I shall give you a brief explanation. Agea is a great distance away. Most of us cannot sift such a great distance,” Amer explained. “Most travel by the ocean or by land, much like humans. Those of us who are more powerful travel by crossing the veil into the otherworld—which I can only describe as a deep abyss of infinite space. Some say it is the space between your realm and ours. Humans cannot cross the veil if they are alive, hence the necessity of somnolence.”

Which brought me to my other question. “And what is somnolence?”

Jareth spoke this time, his eyes narrowing impatiently. “Somnolence is a state of unconsciousness so deep, you are effectively deceased until I clear the spell. We need to leave now, Sarah, save your questions for later.”

Walking over to me, Amer placed a strong hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “I shall carry you through the otherworld, Lady Sarah. Your safety is my highest priority.”

I looked at Jareth suspiciously. “Where will you be?”

His Highness smirked arrogantly. “I _am_ powerful enough to sift through any distance.”

I decided to yield. This wasn’t an important enough battle to win, and clearly, taking a ship to Agea was out of the question if I had to get there immediately. “Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice so go ahead.”

Jareth stared at me silently for a few heartbeats before smiling a wickedly pleased smile. In a fraction of a second, he twirled a cylindrical crystal and threw it at me.

“Catch.”

Reaching out instinctively, I yelped when the bauble burst into a million pieces the second it touched my fingertips.

And that was when my world turned dark.

\--

_\--Interlude--_

The King reclined leisurely on the brocaded pillows that were laid out on smooth, granite furniture, while his General paced the chambers. They were in the antechamber of the apartments assigned to the King in the Marble Palace. The apartments, much like the rest of the palace, consisted of tall marble pillars with pale gold accents. “Is she ready?”

“She is getting dressed, Your Majesty. I would advise you to ensure that Lady Sarah is kept out of the games you… divert yourself with here at Court.”

The King raised a mocking brow. “Games, _me_?” He laughed as the General rolled his eyes. “It’s just the two of us here, Amer. Stop with the formalities.”

“As you wish. But please do not involve Sarah in your-”

“My what, _exactly_?” The King’s smile turned cruel.

“You know what I mean, Jareth.”

Adjusting the silver epaulettes on his shoulders, the Goblin King exhaled deeply. “My intentions are to complete these _trials_ at the earliest, study the Agean court, and leave. I shall not waste valuable time doing anything else.”

The General remained doubtful. “I have never asked you about what occurred during our last _visit_ here, nor will I ever.” He had a fierce look in his amber eyes, “But Sarah-”

“Sarah is not easily broken,” the King replied with equal fierceness. “As for what occurred during the last session, I made a mistake. I shall keep my _ruthlessness_ under control.”

“And the Nastrondisian?”

“Will not interfere.” The King looked mildly amused, “Do you seriously believe that I would _ever_ allow any severe harm to befall her?”

“Perhaps not physical harm, but mental-”

The King rose from his chair, commanding silence. “I understand her limits and I shall not push them…on _this_ visit. I presume you’ve assigned someone capable for her security detail?”

The General understood that they were back on formal terms. “Captain Liezse, Your Highness.”

The King smiled sharply, satisfied with the General’s choice. “Then let us begin.”

_\--End Interlude--_

\--

“This is getting ridiculous,” I said, staring at my reflection in the gold accented mirror in my dressing room; technically, the room assigned to me during our visit to the Marble Palace.  

The Marble Palace, _surprise, surprise_ , was built entirely of beige colored marble. The columns, the flooring, the lattice-like grills on the windows, even most of the furniture was made of polished marble. Everything else was accented with pale gold—bedsheets, cushions, curtains, _everything_.

The simple color combination of beige and pale gold saved the palace from looking gaudy like some hideous hotel in Vegas. But still, the décor was too flashy for my taste. Which was ironic, considering how I was dressed at the moment.

“I’m shiny enough to induce an epilepsy attack,” I looked beseechingly at Cryen and Xia, who had traveled with us to Agea. “Can I remove the belt, at least?”

They looked at each other—probably hoping I wouldn’t cause an altercation. “The King ordered us to make sure that you were properly ornamented with precious crystals of the Kingdom.”

Properly _ornamented_ …like a Christmas tree? _I_ was about to have an epilepsy attack by just _looking_ at myself. The gold accented mirror did not help.

Pursing my lips into a thin line, I studied my reflection. The dress was half ‘fairy-land nymph’ and half ‘tsarina’: it was a gauzy silvery gray, V-neck gown that flared into godet pleats below the knees. While the dress itself was floor length, the chiffon-like material made it fully transparent, and only a smattering of strategically sewn sapphire beads around my waist and chest kept the dress from being absolutely obscene.

Pinned onto one sleeve strap was a diamond brooch with the Astar sigil—the same symbol with three arrows as on Jareth’s shield. Pinned onto the other strap was a silver clip that looked very much like what Daemora and the Silver Lady wore on their robes. A wide, diamond encrusted belt cinched my waist and matching bracelets adorned both my wrists.

Around my neck was an intricate silver choker so finely carved that it looked like a strap of lace, studded with blood red rubies. Fortunately, I was able to wear my own, heeled strappy sandals. I’d half expected to find diamond studded, Cinderella type glass slippers.  

The Tinkerbells kept my makeup simple—silver stained lips and kohl lined eyes, and they sprinkled a bit of crystal dust, very fine pieces of various precious stones, into my hair, which hung loose onto my shoulders.

Cryen smiled as she looked at my reflection, “you look beautiful, Lady Sarah.”

I smiled back, “I feel like a Swarovski studded Lamborghini.”

The two looked at each other, confused.

“Never mind,” I said, laughing. “Where did you get all of this?” I asked, indicating the inordinate amount of bling that was currently on my person.

Xia shrugged. “Our Kingdom is rich in crystals, most are considered precious in the rest of the Underground. The Castle has a vault with various ornaments collected throughout the centuries, the King asked Princess Daemora to pack a few pieces for you.”

 _A few_?

“I’ve never seen the Silver Lady or the Princess in anything similar.” If they wore any jewelry, which was rarely, it was only silver.

“Silver Bearers have never cared using precious crystals for ornamentation. We use them for capturing and releasing magic,” Cryen explained, smoothing the pleats of my skirt, making sure they fell perfectly to the ground.

Yet it was curious that the Goblin King felt the need to ‘ _present’_ me to the Dark Court looking like De Beers Barbie.

Frowning, I wondered what I was supposed to be. A human fuck toy he liked indulging with shiny trinkets? Probably not—that appeared too simplistic, and the Goblin King was anything but that.

I racked my brain trying to think what else it could be but came up with zilch. Whatever it was, I had to trust him on this one. I was going to be thrown into an arena full of predators and I had chosen one to ally with, one I was tied to, indefinitely—I’d be foolish _not_ to trust him. At Court, at least.

“Come, Lady Sarah, your escort awaits,” they said in unison, ushering me out of my room.

\--

My room had its own entrance to and from the hallway, which meant I didn’t have to go through the antechamber. Having fully expected Amer to be my escort, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Zepara instead.

I gawked at her. “You?” I asked, surprised that I couldn’t see her wings.

Laughing in her distinctive raspy voice, Zepara twisted her neck at an impossible angle and appraised me. “You were told to expect someone else?”

Whether it was weeks of learning and training in magic, or whether it was being put in the oubliette, my instinctive fear of the Underground and its various beings had declined significantly.

I tried imitating Jareth’s laconic-brow-raise, “I wasn’t told _anything_.”

Zepara’s coal black eyes softened a little. “Don’t you look like a burst of starlight, little human?”  

 _Great._ I knew I looked ludicrous.

“Don’t you look…” I stared at her for a few moments, “less winged and less armed than usual.” _Less winged? Lame, Williams, really lame._

She laughed again. “Deimos’s rules. No wings and no _visible_ weapons in the Ecliptionate, something about looking ‘presentable,’” she shrugged. “You mean to tell me, Starlight, that the Goblin King did not prepare his precious pet for her trials.” 

_Starlight?_

“Nope,” I decided to go with the truth, “not _this_ precious pet, at least. Although I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Her black eyes pierced into mine. “The Goblin King has a history of toying with mortals,” her brows furrowed, “But I believed he felt differently about you. Perhaps I was wrong.”

Goblin King, history, toying, and mortals. Interesting combination of words.

Shrugging casually, I kept my expression neutral. “You’ve known him longer than I have. I’m sure he finds watching me squirm absolutely hilarious.” _He probably did_. “If I started analyzing the motives behind his actions, I would go crazy.” _I probably would._

Twitching her lips amusedly, Zepara nodded in agreement and held out her hand. “Come, Starlight. I will sift us outside the Ecliptionate so that you can make a grand entrance.” She looked me over slowly, her eyes raking over my body from head to toe. “Unless you’d rather walk there in your transparent attire. I wouldn’t mind that _at all,_ ” she said teasingly, raising a suggestive brow.

I couldn’t help but smile at her flirtatiousness—it kept my apprehension at bay. “I was told Zephyrs are more conservative than the rest.”

“ _They_ are,” she winked, “ _I_ make it a point to break the rules every chance I get.”

I laughed at that. She was far more likeable this time around for sure. “Ecliptionate?” I asked, figuring that I might as well find out where I was headed.

Zepara’s brows furrowed again. “That is where the Court discussions take place. Did Jareth not tell you _anything_?” Her deep voice was laced with disapproval.

“No,” I replied, smiling at the combination of anger and disbelief on her face. “Let’s go then,” I kept my voice chirpy as I took her hand.

\--

“We have arrived,” Zepara said, letting go of my hand and as she ushered me to a massive bronze door. “Keep your head up, Starlight,” the characteristic teasing tone in her voice was notably absent.

I nodded, “Any useful advice?”

“Focus on the Goblin King,” she offered, her eyes sharp, “do not look anywhere else as you walk towards him.” Stepping forward to open the door, she turned back to look at me one last time, “Detach yourself from _his_ conflict with _his_ enemies. You are here as his ally, nothing more.”

I nodded mutely and followed her. This _was_ his world and his war. I was merely an outsider, with the right abilities, who showed up at the wrong time. I would have to play my cards, so to speak, exceptionally well to win.

\--

The Ecliptionate was an amphitheater like room with a domed roof made of glass. As per Zepara’s instructions, I kept my eyes focused on Jareth, who was sitting on a huge marble chair that faced a dais. He was still dressed as I’d seen him last, in black and silver battle armor—he should have clashed quite horribly with the beige and gold décor of the palace, but somehow he didn’t.

If the Goblin King was at all uncomfortable, he did not show it. He lounged contentedly, head leaning against the backrest, one arm sprawled languidly across the chair, and the other resting on an armrest. Tilting his head slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, Jareth turned to Zepara, “Bring her next to me.”

Resisting the urge to look around as I heard faint whispers, I kept my gaze on the Goblin King. The glass dome and gold accents made the room so bright, I had to blink back tears caused by the glare.

“This is where I leave you, Starlight,” Zepara smiled solemnly as she left me standing next to Jareth, “remember to keep your head up.” And just like that, she disappeared in a haze of black smoke.

Smiling at Zepara’s use of the term ‘Starlight,’ Jareth turned his dual eyes on me, “Face the terrace, _my love_.” The term would have confused me had it not been said so mockingly.

Jareth’s magic vibrated over every inch of my skin, urging me face the raised dais that stood at the center of the semicircular seating tiers. I could feel a thin film glaze over my eyes, as I slowly raised my head to meet the High King’s gaze.

 _“I will keep you from reacting, precious.”_ I felt a shiver crawl up my spine when Jareth’s voice suddenly erupted in my head, but the force of his magic kept me still. “ _Greet Deimos and his Queen_.”

The High King Deimos sat on a large throne made of solid gold; he was dressed in an ivory colored, tunic-like jacket paired with dark brown trousers. He looked straight into my eyes, as I studied the chiseled lines of his classically handsome face—olive toned skin, high forehead, straight nose, square jaw line, and perfectly groomed but thick eyebrows. Chin length, black hair fell straight on his face, almost covering one eye, giving him a vulnerable look.

The only similarity I found between Deimos and Jareth, were his eyes - dark, charcoal gray irises that turned into a bright shade of emerald green around the pupil. Like Jareth’s eyes, they were undoubtedly his most unnerving features.

Seated on Deimos’s left was a woman with slightly darker skin, honey colored eyes, and waist length, curly brown hair. She wore a simple beige dress and some pale gold jewelry. On his right was a woman with dark brown skin, hazel eyes, and wavy black hair. Her features were sharply delicate as was her smile—she wore an ivory colored bandeau that bared her midriff and a long skirt. Strands of gold chains hung in layers around her neck and her dainty head was decorated with a golden circlet.

I knew the High Queen’s name was Ceres, but I did not know which one she was. If I had to guess, I’d go with the one wearing the circlet, but I could not afford to be wrong. _Stupid Jareth_. How was I supposed to greet Deimos’s Queen without risking a serious faux pas? I stood there, gaping at three of them, wishing I could communicate with Jareth telepathically as well, until the woman curly hair took pity on me and rose from her seated position.

“Welcome to Agea, Sarah Williams,” her voice was smoothly melodious, “I am Ceres, High Queen of the Underground, Queen of Agea, and High Priestess of Illusions.”

 “Thank you,” I replied, surprised that my voice was steady. “Pleasure to meet you, High Queen Ceres,” I nodded and turned to Deimos, “High King Deimos.” He nodded back, but did not say anything.

If that was the Queen, who the hell was Gold Chains? And how was I supposed to greet her? Luckily, Gold Chains, just sat there, smiling at me with her delicate lips, and did not introduce herself.

 _“The woman on his right is Reyerjis. Do not acknowledge her.”_ Instructions at last. So Gold Chains was someone Jareth would find sadistic. Ironic considering how dainty she looked.

Exhaling somewhat dramatically, Jareth sat up with his back straight, arms resting on both armrests. “I would greatly appreciate it if we could get on with this travesty, Deimos.” He sounded bored out of his mind.

Deimos, for his part, merely sat there without saying anything, his eyes fixed on me.

The High Queen stood up, and tilted her head towards her husband. “Shall we begin, my King?” Not waiting for an answer, she faced me, “Do you know why you have been summoned, Sarah Williams?”

I was about to answer, no, when I heard Jareth’s voice in my head. _“Answer indefinitely.”_

I could do this. “I think I might, but I wouldn’t be so obtuse as to presume definitely.” Now I needed to think of a million different ways to say the same thing.

Her eyes lightened and a smile played on her full, pink lips. “The Court will assess whether you are a threat or-”

Raising a hand, the High King silenced whatever she had been about to say. Ceres’s eyes blazed for a few moments before she took her seat.

Ah. Trouble in paradise.

“Sarah Williams, Lady of the Labyrinth. First Vessel and Defeater of the Labyrinth.” I could feel the deep timbre of Deimos’s hypnotizing voice vibrate through my bones. Unlike Jareth’s voice, which held an almost playful but malicious edge, Deimos’s voice was tinged with something I couldn’t define. Perhaps aggression with a melancholic lilt. “How did you come to be in the Underground?”

_“Tell him the truth. Address him first.”_

“High King Deimos,” I began, keeping my voice as indifferent as I could, “the Labyrinth made me an offer and I took it.”

“Would you care to explain?” His tone was polite, yet it held a mild threat.

I wondered what he’d do if I said, no.

“The Labyrinth provided my father…financial success in exchange for his first born daughter.” I decided to explain the situation in more detail, “My father did not believe the offer to be real, but I made the decision to accept.”

Deimos’s eyes changed color suddenly—his pupils…bled into his irises, which were now emerald green. “I do not understand human terms too well, Defeater.” His voice deepened, “Was your family susceptible to war, famine, or disease?”

The question caught me off guard and made me feel shallow. I waited a few seconds for Jareth’s telepathic instructions, but he did not provide any. “No,” I replied, choosing my words very carefully, “The offer ascertained that they would have a higher standard of living.”

He smiled slowly, revealing sharpened canines that looked like fangs. “You decided to _bind_ yourself to the Boneyard and become the Child Executioner’s _subject_ so your family has a higher standard of living…” His eyes had returned to their original shade of charcoal gray.

The words Boneyard and Child Executioner rattled in my head, generating disturbing images. I would have trembled like a leaf had Jareth’s magic not held me up and kept my gaze straight.

_“Answer him.”_

“Yes,” I replied, thankful that Jareth’s magic kept my voice steady.

“Was your family’s _standard of living_ worth the sacrifice?” 

No. “Yes.” I hoped I sounded sincere.

“Liar.” Deimos’s lips quirked up in an amused smile as he turned to Jareth with raised brows. “I can read the horror in your human’s face, Goblin King. Perhaps she will not be a very effective Vessel.”

Jareth leaned back leisurely and cocked his head to the side. “So then we are done with this charade,” he drawled.

_“Do not say anything else. Eyes on his face.”_

“You say ‘charade’ Goblin King,” Deimos bantered, his eyes changing yet again, becoming a dark shade of hunter green. “Yet we fear for our lives.”

Jareth gave him a jaded look. “The Court realizes that my army is no match for any kingdom, let alone Agea. Our numbers are very low.”

“Of course. What are your numbers, three hundred?” A small smile played on Deimos’s lips.

Baring his teeth, Jareth smiled back. “A hundred and seventy six, High King.”

“A hundred and seventy six Silver Bearers with their half-breed King,” Deimos said amusedly, “an army with an Ifriti General. An heir, I’m told, that runs wild. And now a human wearing an Astar sigil and Silver pin…” He paused until his silence made the air stand still. “It must be disheartening to witness the extinction of one’s kind.”

_“Keep your eyes on Deimos.”_

I could see a muscle twitch along Jareth’s jawline, but he kept an amused expression on his face. “Thank you for your concern.” Standing up abruptly in a fluid motion, Jareth addressed the Court directly, “Let the Dark Court acknowledge that based on the High King’s words, the Goblin Kingdom is not a threat.” He sat back down indolently and turned to Deimos, “Are we done?”

I saw Deimos smile, truly smile, for the first time and I was thankful that Jareth’s magic kept me from taking a step back. The curl of his lips made my stomach roil with a mixture of fear and disgust.

“Dear human child,” the High King addressed me, his eyes had darkened even more, into fathomless black holes. “The Goblin Kingdom is covered by a blanket of snow, but I hear the northern sea cliffs are unmatched in their natural beauty...” he let the sentence trail off.

I had no idea where he was going with this. “And?”

Deimos’s classically lined face now morphed into something else entirely. “So I take it that you haven’t been there,” he paused to examine my reaction, “have you seen the Kingdom, _your_ Kingdom, at all?”

_“Answer him.”_

“No.”

The High King let out a low sound from his throat, half laugh, half snarl. Any resemblance to the calm, self-possessed King he had been at the beginning of my trial, ended. “If I offer you the _alternative_ of leaving the Child Executioner and joining the Agean Court as _my_ subject, would you take it?”

 _Fuck no._ “No,” I said quickly before Jareth spoke in my mind. “I chose to accept the Labyrinth’s offer, I chose the Goblin King as my sovereign. He has my loyalty, _always_.”

There was complete silence for a few seconds before scarcely audible murmurs echoed throughout the Ecliptionate.

_“Interesting speech, precious.”_

If I could have communicated with him in a similar manner, I would have told him to shut up. Among other things.

Deimos looked as if he was vaguely pleased with my answer. “My offer stands indefinitely, Sarah Williams, if you should ever change your mind…” he drifted off, smiling as if he knew a secret. “In the meantime, as my honored guest, I would like you to help me with a task.”

“To the extent to which I can,” I replied, making sure I kept my words precise.

“I would like you to provide justice, Sarah Williams.”

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been asked whether I relate my chapters to specific songs. I do listen to music when I write, but…it’s mostly whatever’s in the charts. Including the Chain Smokers, Alan Walker, even Justin Bieber and that one guy who used to be in One Direction. So yeah…no song lyrics here. I used to be such a music snob when I was younger, but at 31 I'm like 'yay fun beats!' 18-year-old me would be appalled.  
> But if I had to choose a song to rep what I think is the ideal J and S relationship, it’d be Heroes by David Bowie. I see them having an on again—off again relationship more than a happily ever after with kids. But that’s just me. Doesn’t work for this fic though.


	16. The Trials Commence

 

Justice? What a joke. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him there’s no such thing, but the piercing expression in his eyes made me stop.

Breathing calmly, I spoke, “I will do what I can.”

Deimos looked at Jareth, his lips curling. “This should be an easy enough task for _your_ Lady of the Labyrinth.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Jareth deadpanned, infinitely bored.

Turning his gaze sharply back onto me, Deimos’s smile widened a little. He could probably read my unease. “As the High King of the Underground, I would like your assistance, Sarah Williams. The Agean Court wants you to suggest a suitable punishment for a woman with whom you are…connected.”

His convoluted manner of speaking had me confused. I had never met an Agean woman, let alone connected with one. I kept my gaze steady and raised my brows.

“As you are aware, Lady of the Labyrinth, Agea is the strongest kingdom in this realm. We owe this to our numbers—we revere our children.”

Jareth’s harsh laugh interrupted Deimos. “You mandate your people to produce as many children as they can, Deimos. Is that your definition of ‘revere’?”

A slow murmur echoed across the Ecliptionate walls. The Court was entertained by the showdown between the Underground’s most powerful king and the Underground’s most powerful being.

Smiling wide enough to show his fangs, Deimos turned back to Jareth. “Goblin King,” his deepened an octave, “You have your ways, and we have ours.” Shifting his gaze back to me, he seemed pleased by what he saw in my face, “While we are more blessed than the Silver Bearers, we are not as prolific as humans, Lady of the Labyrinth. Most Agean women are only able to produce one child in their lifetimes—some very fortunate ones may even produce two.” He stopped and studied my face, generating a heavy quietness around the room until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“It would be helpful if you’d get to the point, High King Deimos,” I said as politely as I could.

“ _Temper, temper, precious_.” Jareth’s voice sounded amused.

Deimos nodded, “Those who…neglect their offspring are dealt with harshly.” His eyes lightened to a shade of cyan green. “I believe you came across two Agean children in the _Boneyard_. Am I correct?”

My mouth went dry as I recalled having to watch the Agean child run the Labyrinth.

_“Answer him.”_

“Yes, but only one. I never saw the ba-“” I couldn’t complete that sentence. I continued to stand there, staring at Deimos until Jareth’s magic took hold of me. “Baby.”

Deimos’s smile turned more polite, no sign of fangs. “As per our laws, the mother shall be held accountable for leaving her infant daughter with her…rather incapable brother. She lost the Kingdom of Agea two _valuable_ children that day—her infant and her younger brother, who would have served in the Agean Army.” He made a gesture with his hands, but kept his eyes on my face.

A woman was brought in by two guards dressed in beige uniforms, donning golden helmets. The woman wore a simple robe like dress made of coarse, unrefined cotton and her golden brown hair hung loosely to her waist. My breath caught in my throat as they dragged her close enough for me to see her bloodied face and her eyes—or lack thereof. Her eye sockets were empty and her eyelids drooped loosely, as if the muscles holding them in place and given out.

Without Jareth’s magic holding me up, I wouldn’t have been able to stand, much less hold my head up and face Deimos. My stomach quivered in equal parts sympathy and nausea, but Jareth’s magic probably kept me from throwing up. “What happened to her?”

Deimos did not seem remotely sympathetic. “Stricken with grief, she tore out her eyes and tongue. Even so, she cannot escape justice for losing two children,” he looked at me intently, eyes gray again, “Give her a suitable punishment, Lady of the Labyrinth.”

I could only stare back, mutely.

“ _Give her an acceptable punishment, Sarah_.” Jareth’s voice resounded clearly in my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

“ _Answer him or I will make you_.”

I kept staring, my mouth open.

“ _Sarah_!”

“Hasn’t she been punished enough?” I asked—I couldn’t have said anything else.

Deimos’s laugh reverberated around the Ecliptionate and my stomach churned battery acid. I had a feeling I had lost his game…badly. “Your human appears to be traumatized, Goblin King.”

“ _You refused a direct order, Sarah_.” Jareth’s voice tore through my mind sharply. “ _You leave me no choice but to create a diversion_.”

Diversion?

I saw Jareth grin from the corners of my eyes, his lazy smile intact. “She _is_ traumatized, isn’t she?” he sounded mildly entertained. “Come sit with me,” he commanded, tilting his head to the side. His long legs were planted firmly on the platform.

Did he seriously believe I’d sit on his lap?

Apparently not. I felt the pull of his magic guide me towards him, until I sat on his lap. I rested the back of my head against his shoulder, my eyes still facing Deimos. Jareth curled an arm around my stomach, his thumb gently stroking my hips.

“Sarah, _my dearest love_ ,” he spoke against my ear, his lips moving against the sensitive skin there. “Give this woman a suitable punishment if you can.”

I couldn’t.

“I do not know what constitutes a suitable punishment.” And that was the truth. I didn’t. Looking at this poor woman, her eyelids splaying against her face, I knew I would never be able to cause her more harm.

“ _Oh precious…that was unwise_.”

“High King,” Jareth drawled, voice paradoxically bored yet entertained simultaneously, “Do stop boring us with your internal problems.” He started drawing lazy circles against my ribs with his gloved fingers, his lips hovered dangerously close to the spot below my earlobe that made me shiver.  

Deimos looked at both of us, expressionless, but I noticed how Reyerjis sat up straight, her lips slightly parted. The nameless prisoner with drooping eyelids just stood there, oblivious.

“ _Breathe_.”

Easy for him to say. The dress was too thin, and I could feel the heat of his body against my skin. It was a good thing that I wore a strapless bra or everyone in the Court would have gotten a good look at my hardened nipples. Jareth’s other hand stroked my leg, hipbone to knee, and his tongue darted out to caress that spot below my earlobe.

I whimpered, pressing my head against his shoulder, angling my neck closer to his lips. A slow flush crept up my chest, spreading up my neck—blood crept up my cheeks.

“We’re waiting, _dearest_ _love_.” Jareth’s deep rumbling laughter reverberated against my back, making my skin tingle even more. “My _human_ is preoccupied at the moment, Deimos. Pass on the sentencing task to Reyerjis, the Court certainly knows she would be delighted to comply.”

Reyerjis did not move a muscle, but her expression changed slowly. Her delicate lips were parted wide enough to show her pearly teeth, and she looked like she wanted to eat me alive.

“My precious, _precious_ human,” Jareth murmured softly as he placed hot, open mouthed kisses on the back of my neck, his fingers curled around up ribcage, brushing the underside of my breast. His other hand gently slipped the silver necklace off of my neck, his lips caressing the newly exposed skin.

“ _Trust me_.”

Jareth bit the spot where my shoulder met my neck, his leather clad fingers tracing the skin between my breasts.

I couldn’t swallow the loud moan that slipped my lips. I felt Jareth stiffen ever so slightly.

“ _Trust me_.” His fingers stilled as he spoke into my mind, his voice soothing.

And that was when I realized that I did trust the Goblin King. Not because I had to—or because he was the apex predator that would protect me. I trusted him _instinctively_. I leaned back against him, burying my face into his neck, breathing in the scent of leather and pinecones.

Jareth’s magic buzzed against every inch of my skin, concentrating on my inner thighs, and his fingers were back to tracing the skin between my breasts. I could hear low murmurs spread across the Ecliptionate—I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious as to what they were saying. I certainly fit the part of the Goblin King’s shiny, new, human fuck toy.

But I didn’t care.

The buzzing in my inner thighs intensified, inching towards my heated core. I was glad I’d insisted on wearing nude colored panties, the gauzy material of the dress wouldn’t have been able to contain the wetness that pooled in my center. My breathing started to hitch.

 “ _Look at Deimos_.” Jareth used his magic to turn my head so I was, once again, facing the terrace, looking into Deimos’s soulless eyes.

The High King sat on his throne, his eyes fixed onto mine as Jareth’s magic hummed against my core, teasing the bundle of nerves ever so slowly. Trembling as a low moan rasped in my throat, I held Deimos’s gaze, trying to read some expression in his face.

“I have rather enjoyed your human’s … reactions today, Goblin King.” Reyerjis spoke, her voice was exactly the same high-pitched, musical voice that I’d heard when Jareth had ciphered through my dream. “I wonder if you would let me play with your marionette.” It wasn’t a question.

I grew cold at the thought. He wouldn’t.

“You’ve never been interested in playing with humans, Reyerjis, why start with _my_ human?” Jareth’s voice was laced with a possessiveness that I’d never heard from him before.

Ceres, who had watched the trial with increasing abhorrence, kept her eyes on the nameless prisoner who stood below the dais. While she clearly disliked Deimos, she did not seem to display any warmth towards Jareth either. I presumed that she absolutely hated Reyerjis as she had not acknowledged her existence throughout the trial. 

I was lost in thought when Jareth’s magic surged suddenly, humming against my clit—I moaned, breath rasping in my throat, as pressure built in my core. If he kept going, he would make me come in front of the entire court. The thought made me warm and cold at the same time. I was getting closer to the edge.

“I can taste her struggle,” Reyerjis’s high pitched voice brought me down from the brink. “She feels equal parts shock, revulsion, and pleasure…” Hazel eyes turning into liquid pools of lust, she fixed her delicate lips into an exquisite pout as she faced Jareth. “Goblin King, did you think I would not notice how you look at Princess Astre sitting behind me, every time you touch your human marionette?” She tilted her head and smiled, “The two of you have always played with mortals, _together_. Allow me to play as well.”

 _Well_. That was news to me. So far, I had been able to take Zepara’s advice and keep my eyes on Jareth or Deimos—but now, I could not stop myself from looking at the semi-circular seating tier behind Reyerjis. Right behind Reyerjis sat a blond woman, strikingly similar to Iselin, only with sharper features and lighter hair. Her icy gray eyes were glazed with lust, just like Reyerjis’s, but instead of looking at me, her head was angled in such a way that she was looking right behind me…at Jareth.

Jareth must have felt me stiffen because he spoke into my mind. “ _Trust me_.” The humming buzz of his magic stopped and I exhaled a sigh of relief. My breathing took a while to slow down.

“You should ask Sarah that question Reyerjis, but some other time perhaps,” Jareth said lazily as he bent his head forward to kiss my shoulder. “She awoke from somnolence only a few hours ago.”

A low set of whispers echoed around the Ecliptionate.

Reyerjis shrugged, a serene expression on her pretty face. “I will hold you to that, Goblin King.”

“Of course,” Jareth said, nonchalant, “If we could close today’s trial, Deimos? I believe no one has come forward to cite any grievances regarding Sarah.”

Deimos stood suddenly, gripping Reyerjis’s hand in his, pulling her up from her seated position. “Until tomorrow,” he said calmly, before turning back to face the Court. “I hope the Court will attend tonight’s celebratory fete organized in the Goblin King’s honor.” He turned back to us, “I hope we can meet your expectations, Jareth.” Saying that, Deimos and Reyerjis disappeared in a flash of light.

I guess he was one for making quick exits.

“ _Stand and wait for Ceres to address us_.” The commanding tone was back in Jareth’s voice.

I stood as he asked, relieved when I felt his arms around my shoulders, steadying my stance.

Ceres sat in her throne for a few moments, her honey colored eyes gleaming with an emotion I could not identify. If she was angry that her husband had just made off with the scariest woman in the Underground, she did not show it. The rest of the Court followed suit when she did finally stand.

“Goblin King,” Ceres addressed us in her smooth voice, “I am personally through with these… _trials_. I do not believe the Lady of the Labyrinth is a threat to our realm.” She turned around to face the Court. “Take my assessment into account,” she dictated. She, too, disappeared in a flash of light.

“ _Keep standing_.”

I complied, a little surprised when he tightened his arms around my shoulders. If I had not gotten to know him well, I would have said he was being _territorial_.

“Until tomorrow,” was all Jareth said before he sifted us out of the Ecliptionate and into, what I assumed, was the sitting area of the antechamber of the King’s apartments.

\--

The antechamber was a large, rectangular space with doors leading to various different rooms. One probably lead to mine, except I did not know which one.

“Um. Which door leads to my room?” I asked Jareth, my voice completely normal.

“Farthest door to the right,” Jareth replied, his eyes glittering as he looked at me. His gaze felt intense enough to scorch my flimsy dress. He seemed almost…angry with me.

I decided that I did not want to find out what was going on with him. “Thanks!” I exclaimed chirpily, turning on my heels and making a beeline for the farthest door to the right.

“Sarah!” His voice was as sharp as a knife. Yup. Definitely angry.

I whirled around and met his icy eyes, my temper increasing by the second. If anything _, I_ had the right to be angry that he was playing some game with his sometimes girlfriend in the audience. “What?”

“Do not refuse a direct order in the future.”

Sighing deeply, I started trembling as my rage expanded. Technically, I supposed, I was angry with myself more so than him. I had _indeed_ refused a direct order from the High King. But I was in no mood to admit that to Jareth or argue with him about anything. “Alright,” I complied, “Anything else, or can I head to my room and take a nap?”

Jareth did something I hadn’t seen him do. Ever. Baring his teeth, he growled at me in anger. “Do you know the consequences-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence as Amer sifted right between us, his magic in full blaze. Without acknowledging me, he faced Jareth, amber eyes burning. “What were you thinking?” his generally boisterous voice was strangely quiet.

Sighing dramatically, Jareth stalked over to a granite sofa and reclined comfortably on the cushions. “I was thinking I should do something to distract Deimos from _reproving_ our lovely Sarah, who, as I’m sure you noticed, refused a direct order issued by the High King.”

Amer jerked his head, his curly midnight locks shook, as if there was a breeze in the room. “And you thought of doing so by disgracing Lady Sarah in front of the entire Court.” I noticed that he did not even look in my general direction.

Great. Amer was angry with me as well.

Laughing with cool amusement, Jareth put his legs up on the sofa looking as relaxed as ever. “Sarah seems to find human principles of courtly love to be _problematic_ , I doubt she adheres to the Ifriti values of honor or disgrace, Amer.”

“ _I_ adhere to Ifriti values of honor and disgrace, Your Majesty.”

He was mad. _Really_ mad. I’d never heard him speak to Jareth like that.

Thinking that I had to act quickly, I coughed. “Excuse me…”

Amer faced me abruptly, his eyes blazing liquid fire with such intensity that I took a step back.

I coughed again, this time out of nervousness. “Since this… _conflict_ seems to involve me, I’d like to say something.” I paused, giving them a chance to speak.

Neither of them said anything.

I peered into the General’s eyes, relieved when I saw that his gaze had become softer. “Jareth’s right. I don’t know what Ifriti values of honor encompass, but I probably do not adhere to them.”

“A lady of my house, which is what you are Lady Sarah, will not be shamed in such a manner.”

 _Whoa_.

I gaped at him. “Those are some strong words, General Amer. I could stand here and argue with you about them all day, but I really must stress that I do not adhere to those beliefs. The King provided a distraction, and I was part of that distraction—I don’t have a problem with that. It was still better than the alternative of punishing that woman.” I continued when he nodded, “But I do appreciate your willingness to… _defend_ my honor.”

The General looked weary. “I will escort you to the celebratory fete tonight, Lady Sarah. Catch up on your rest for a few hours—humans who have undergone somnolence tend to collapse within a few hours of resurrection.” He turned to Jareth, “My King, I would like to speak to you before we head to the fete. I have to organize security for tonight.”

“Of course,” Jareth replied. “Whenever you wish.”

Bowing deeply, Amer sifted out of the antechamber, leaving me alone with Jareth.

_One down, one to go._

Raising my head to meet Jareth’s eyes, I tried keeping my voice even as I spoke, “I apologize if I caused you any inconvenience by refusing Deimos’s direct order. But there was no way in hell I could sentence that poor woman. I don’t have a problem with your…distraction technique.” I flashed him a smile, hoping his anger had dissipated.

“Caused me any…inconvenience?” Jareth asked incredulously, abruptly sitting up from his languid position. “ _Inconvenience_?” Apparently, it hadn’t.

I stared back mutely, trying to keep my temper in check. “I’m apologizing, Jareth. You don’t have act like I killed your puppy.”

An icy fire burned in Jareth’s eyes—the likes of which I’d never seen before. “You foolish, foolish girl!”

 _Girl_?

He continued, “Do you know what Deimos could have done to you for disobeying a direct order. At Court, no less!”

“I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“He could have handed you to Reyerjis for punishment.”

That stopped any other smart-ass comment that was on the tip of my tongue. I did not want to go anywhere within a five meter radius of Reyerjis, let alone be left at her mercy.

“Cat got your tongue, _Sarah dearest_?”

“There was nothing else I could do Jareth,” I retorted, my voice short.

Jareth sneered, his lips curling against his savage teeth. “Of course not. Sarah Williams, the _Defeater_ of the Labyrinth is always a heroine.”

That was it. The temper I’d tried so hard to quash came surging up, until it consumed my mind.

Walking slowly and deliberately towards him, I leaned into Jareth, my arms on either side of his body and my face inches from his. “I wouldn’t care if you had stripped me down and took me on that dais, in front of the whole Court, Jareth—if it meant not having to sentence that woman.” I gave him a tight lipped smile, “I do have a problem with whatever the hell was going on between you and Princess Astre while you were - _magic fucking?_ \- me. Keep me out of your unorthodox relationships.”

“Sarah-”

I held up a hand. “Please. I don’t care either way as long as it isn’t repeated. Right now, I just want to get into my swimsuit and lie down on the chaise that’s in the small garden adjoining my room, and get some vitamin D.”

I walked away before he could say anything.

\--

Sitting down at the dressing table, I started removing all of my jewelry, starting with the ridiculous belt. Diamonds, it turned out, were super heavy—and wearing a ton of diamonds felt almost oppressive. I wiped off the silver color from my lips and kohl from my eyes.

Thinking about what I’d said to Jareth, I cringed.

_“I do have a problem with whatever the hell was going on between you and Princess Astre while you were - magic fucking? -  me. Keep me out of your unorthodox relationships.”_

What had possessed me to bring that up? The best course of action would have been to pretend nothing happened and watch their dynamics from the sidelines. But no. I had to go and be dramatic, like some wronged girlfriend.

Pathetic.

Tugging at the straps of the dress, I sighed in frustration. The flimsy thing was damn near impossible to take off. Cryen and Xia had helped me wear the dress, but they weren’t around to help me out of it so I was on my own. I tugged the strap again, growling when it didn’t slip off my shoulder—almost felt like damn thing was stuck to me.

If nothing worked, I was going to rip the thing off with my bare hands.

“Stupid. Fucking. Fairy Dress.”

Ripping off the material wasn’t so easy. I ruffled through the dressing table drawers, looking for a pair of scissors.

“The dress is enchanted to stay on your body.” Jareth, who seemed to have materialized behind me some time ago, kept his face expressionless as he met my eyes on the mirror.

 _Of course it was fucking enchanted._ “Why?” I hissed, turning around.

A raised brow. “It’s a rather delicate ensemble, you would not have wanted the fabric to slip.”

Trust him to have a logical explanation.

 “Could you?” I asked, indicating the red bikini I’d laid out.

Jareth gave a barely perceptible nod and I found myself wearing my swimsuit. The awful dress was nowhere in sight.

“Thanks,” I said, voice casual, as I slipped on a cover-up and forced myself to meet his eyes. Wishing I’d kept my mouth shut earlier wasn’t going to help—I had to stop feeling embarrassed and move on. “There anything you want?” I walked towards the screen door that led to the adjoining, high-walled garden when he didn’t say anything.

“Sarah.” Jareth spoke just as I opened the screen and stepped out, relishing the feel of fresh grass under my feet. “I’d like to…”

I raised my brows and turned around, “Do you want to come outside and talk? Or would you turn into a pile of ashes?”

He disappeared.

 _Okay then_.

Slipping off the cover-up, I reclined on a marble chaise, savoring the feel of warm sunlight on my skin. If I was going to age as slowly as Jareth, then I wouldn’t have to worry about melanoma or wrinkles—may as well soak up the sun.

“Sarah. I’d like to speak to you about tonight’s fete.”

I jumped into a sitting position. _Jesus_. Where did he come from?

“Jareth, you’re beginning to scare me,” I said, turning around to look at him.

The Goblin King leaned against the garden wall—he’d changed from his armor into a tailored white shirt and form fitting gray pants. “Why’s that?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“Because I’d like to believe at least one of us knows what they’re doing.” I smiled at him, “and that’s you.”

Jareth roared with laughter. I relaxed, reclining back onto the chaise.

“Sarah.” His voice was back to being serious. “If anyone asks anything of you, _anything_ , I’d like you to direct that person to me.”

“ _Anyone_ and _anything_ are very broad terms, Jareth. You have to be more specific—do I have to run to you if someone asks me ‘what’s your favorite color’.”

Walking slowly towards me, he sat on the foot of the chaise, his dual eyes boring into mine. “Very well. Anything that makes you decidedly _apprehensive_.”

I could do that. “Sure. I would have done that anyway.”

“There is something else.”

I sighed. “Jareth,” I said, sitting up, “You sound like you’re about to give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. Right before prom. Just go ahead and say what you’re going to say.”

An amused smile. “I don’t quite know what that means, precious. Iselin would like you to accompany her tomorrow afternoon—she wishes to visit the famous Agean Markets.”

That got my attention. “Okay, I accept.”

“Really?” Jareth seemed surprised.

I shrugged. “I’m sure I can handle whatever _Iselin_ throws at me; she does seem tame compared to the rest, just like you said.” That was true enough, she seemed more of a spoiled princess than a sadist—and I liked the sound of the famous Agean Markets.

Jareth stood up. “You must wear the Astar sigil—anything you may want in the marketplace shall be taken from my credit.”

Hmm. “I’m good with window shopping,” I said, “I’m not one to collect junk. You’ve made sure I have more than enough of anything I need.” I’d thrown out all of my childhood clutter after running the Labyrinth and I’d been a minimalist ever since.

“In case you should want to collect… _junk_ , you need only point to the sigil.”

I decided to be gracious instead of argumentative. “Thank you. Anything else…?”

Jareth smiled toothily, a familiar wicked gleam lightened his mismatched eyes. “What exactly are you doing, Sarah? And what…are you wearing?”

I was relieved that the Jareth I knew was back. “I am trying to get some color, and this is a swimsuit—Daemora found it bizarre when I wore it to the hot springs.”

Apparently, Silver Bearers didn’t wear anything to hot springs and the princess had not understood the purpose of two scraps of fabric. I’d had to explain North American… _issues_ with complete nudity.

Leaning in, he traced an ungloved finger along the waistband of my bikini bottom. “I find it quite fascinating.” A tiny speck of his magic seeped into my skin—it was enough to jolt me into a sitting position.

\--

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Really glad to see the number of bookmarks increase every chapter. If you have any questions, do ask me in the reviews (or PMs) b/c if you don’t, then I’m going to assume I’ve done a great job explaining everything :)
> 
> What do Ageans look like?
> 
> Think people from Southern Europe / Middle Eastern countries around the Mediterranean / North Africa—it’s a polymorphic society. People can be light olive skinned with light golden brown hair and green eyes and they can be dark olive skinned with black hair and dark eyes. And anywhere in between.


	17. The Winning Game

 

**\--**

_A tiny speck of his magic seeped into my skin—it was enough to jolt me into a sitting position._

“Jareth,” I breathed, my voice low. He was very, very still, looking straight into my eyes with his burning gaze. I knew instinctively that he was waiting for me to make a move in this cat and mouse game of his.

And so I did.

Inching away from him, ever so slowly, I leaned my head against the shallow backrest of the chaise. “You want something else,” I observed shrewdly, “What is it?”

Saying nothing, Jareth smiled wickedly and raised a brow, as if he expected me to know his thoughts. His fingers traced a bikini strap, sending goosebumps down my skin. “I believe what I want from you is quite obvious, my _precious_ creature.”

I rolled my eyes, “I mean apart from the obvious.”

“I’d like to entrust you with a task, but I wonder if you are _capable_.” The challenge in his tone did not go unnoticed. He leaned in closer, his long fingers almost touching mine.

“You won’t know until you tell me.” Parting my lips, I flashed him a wide, dazzling smile, courtesy eight years of braces.

Jareth’s eyes darkened a shade. “General Arges leads the Demi Soldiers of Agea. You will meet him tonight.”

This was beginning to get interesting. “And?”

“He is part of the Agean Court and leads Ceres’s Council. I want you to seek some information regarding Deimos’s new source of power. From what I know of the Agean Court, Arges is our safest bet.”

“What makes you think he’ll tell me?” _The Goblin King’s marionette_ , I added silently.

“Arges is part mortal—he might sympathize with you. From what I know of him, he enjoys games and I’m sure you can think of something clever from the human realm, Sarah.” He left the sentence open, leaving me to draw my own conclusions.

I frowned, unable to see myself playing Pictionary with General Arges.

A slow, cruel smile. “It’s not as complicated as you are making it out to be, precious.”

“Fine. I’ll think of something,” I snapped, annoyed with his condescending tone. I knew this was some kind of a test, I just didn’t know what kind. Deciding to go with my motto of ‘when in doubt, change the subject,’ I asked, “I’ve never seen Amer so angry with you. He looked like he wanted to punch you in the face.”

Jareth barked with laughter. “What makes you believe that he hasn’t punched me, as you say, many times?”

I gaped, shocked. “Well…he seems to respect you fervently.”

“Amer follows some very strict protocols. He sees you as a defenseless innocent of sorts—hence his sense of honor in keeping you protected. As loyal as he is, he’s no mindless sycophant, and he _has_ left me battered after a few sparring sessions.”

 _Great_. Amer, too, thought I was a defenseless innocent, which was just a nicer way of saying naïve simpleton. “Are you familiar with human playing cards?” I asked, suddenly thinking of an idea that may work.

Jareth’s dual eyes lightened with humor. “Yes.”

“Would you be able to get me a pack before the fete tonight?”

“Yes.” His gaze turned dark, “Thought of a game, have you?”

“Possibly.”

A canine smile. “Try not to lose, _Sarah dearest_ ,” he said, standing up gracefully and dusting off some imaginary lint from his shirt. His unnerving gaze turned expressionless once again. “You are not required for your trials tomorrow, I will attend in your stead.” He tilted his head, “enjoy your excursion with Iselin.”

Raising my brows, I asked, “You’re not going to be at there tonight?”

“I will be there, but we will not come across each other.”

 _Cryptic son-of-a-bitch_.

That was all he said before sifting out of the garden and out of my sight, leaving me confused as to whether I had won or lost that round.

\--

Feeling adequately refreshed after a nice long nap in the Agean sun, followed by a deep soak in lavender scented water, I looked curiously at the outfit laid out for me. It was a chartreuse colored dress made of raw silk. The one shouldered bodice was form fitting, and long pleats gave the skirt just the right amount of volume. I decided to pair the dress with my gladiator heels. Thankfully, the outfit was simple enough that I was able to dress myself quite quickly.

The jewelry Cryen and Xia had laid out was unlike anything I’d seen before—it was gold instead of silver and the stones consisted only of brilliant emeralds. Fortunately, there were only a few pieces—a large ring and drop, chandelier earrings. I was pleased to see that they had placed a pack of cards on the dresser alongside a small, beaded purse.

“Lady Sarah?” Came Amer’s rich voice from behind.

The General wore an armor of white and gold, not pale gold like the Ageans, but bright gold—the color combination looked absolutely stunning on him. Unsurprisingly, none of the weapons he carried were visible, but he was holding a delicately carved gold circlet, which he handed to me. “If you would?”

Placing the circlet on my head, I smiled at the General. “Thank you,” I said before yelping as the damn thing caught fire.

Amer laughed richly, light dancing in his eyes. “Do not be alarmed, Lady Sarah. The fire will not burn you.”

I glared at him good naturedly. “You could have warned me.”

Smiling, he held up his hands in mock surrender, “I forgot you wouldn’t recognize that as an Ifriti fire band. Should anyone touch you against your will…let us say they will have burns that may never heal.”

Well. _That’d_ certainly come in handy. “I guess Jareth told you the plans regarding Arges?”

“He did.” A quiet fire burned in his eyes, “The fire band will ensure your safety should you require it.”

I smiled gratefully, as I took his hand, “Thank you, General.”

“My pleasure, Defeater.” Saying that, he sifted us into a circular, open air hall that was breathtakingly beautiful.

\--

The aptly named Fire Hall was lit by massive torches around the periphery, making the circular hall look as if it were a ring of fire. Various smaller fires were lit on gray colored marble slabs around the room. My breath caught in my throat as I looked out and saw the view—the hall was on an island and we were surrounded by water on all sides. Stars twinkled brightly against the dark Agean night sky.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A male voice I’d never heard before disrupted my thoughts.

“Crown Prince Dagir,” The General spoke, his formidable voice had a harsh edge. “I did not see you at the trials this morning so I presumed you were unable to attend. This is Lady Sarah, Defeater of the Labyrinth.”

Whoever this Dagir was, the General’s tone clearly indicated he was not an ally, so I took my time and turned around slowly, taking in his form. From his flaxen hair and frosty gray eyes, it was fairly easy to categorize him as a Nastrondisian. “Crown Prince Dagir,” I repeated, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The prince smiled charmingly and his eyes softened. “The pleasure is all mine.” I couldn’t quite describe his voice apart from there being a certain slyness embedded in his tone. “I would shake your hand as per your customs, Lady Sarah, but the General’s band makes me wary.”

I noticed he didn’t use Defeater, and the Silver Lady’s words came back to me. Perhaps I was undermining my victory by disregarding the title.

Amer laughed a loud, booming laugh. “The inherent Nastrondisian fear of fire never ceases to amuse me. I shall take your leave, _Defeater_. But I will be there should you require my assistance.” He looked at the prince as he said this, the threat completely unhidden.

“General,” I bowed back before turning to Dagir, a smile on my face. “I am intrigued as to why you’ve sought me out, Crown Prince.” I said, keeping my voice light and my eyes playful.

He smiled an enchanting smile. “Shall I take your hand?”

“Of course,” I replied, holding onto to his arm, grinning to myself as he took a while to relax—the Nastrondisian prince’s fear of fire had me amused as well. He led me to a curtained area that opened up to a balconette, and I felt a spray of the sea as the ocean waves crashed against the rocks below us. “I sense you do not want our conversation overheard,” I said, a twinkle in my eyes.

“Are my intentions that obvious?”

I replied with silvery laughter. “They are when you escort me to a secluded area, dear Prince.”

He stilled, head tilting as he studied me with his frosty eyes. “Have you met my wife, First Princess Astre?”

I must have shown some emotion on my face as his gray eyes flickered with understanding. “I haven’t had the pleasure,” I replied, “Perhaps I shall meet her tonight.”

Laughing indulgently, he gave me a condescending look—I felt the air around me shift, his power infiltrating my immediate space. “She has left the fete,” he said, eyes locked onto mine, “and the Goblin King is nowhere to be seen. They like to… _entertain each other_ at Court.”

This time around I made it point not to react. “And you felt the need to tell me this because?”

“I wish to understand the nature of your relationship with the Goblin King.”

Fortunately, I’d already formulated a standard answer for the question, “The nature of my relationship with the Goblin King is whatever he wishes it to be.”

He laughed again—this time his power rippled against my skin. “Human,” he said, voice mildly bitter, “If that were the truth, you would have joined them this very moment. Yet here you are…”

 _Human_? “I am not as presumptuous as to question the Goblin King’s actions.”

He looked at me for a few moments, sizing me up. “What makes you extraordinary?” His voice was charmingly friendly once again, not a trace of bitterness. With his wheat colored hair and gray eyes, he could easily have been a Disney prince. “They have amused themselves by tormenting mortals for centuries,” he discerned my every movement and a spark of triumph flared in his eyes. “Last Court session was quite… _diverting_ because they took their mutual fascination a bit too far.”

Knowing full well that he was trying to rile my temper, I smiled at him warmly. “You wish to tell me what they did.” I walked closer to him. “I am all ears,” my smile deepened, when he looked confused, “In human terms, that means I’m listening intently.”

He looked away for a moment before turning back to meet my gaze, “S _he_ brought him a mortal woman to play with, an Agean mortal with long dark hair and jade green eyes. One could say, she looked like you.” He paused, reading my face, “We do not know what occurred between them, but the woman was deeply affected. Her mind broke and she walked into the Turquoise Sea.”

My mouth went dry and blood roared in my ears as my heart thudded against my chest. I suddenly recalled Amer’s incredulous expression after he found out about the oubliette incident. _“Humans are fragile of mind. You are well aware of the disastrous repercussions of such fragility.”_

“I seem to have upset you, Lady of the Labyrinth,” Dagir lamented, his voice actually sounding remorseful. _Obviously_ , I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that he was remotely remorseful. His ability to convey emotions through his tone was even more unnerving than Jareth’s ability to hide emotions.

“Perhaps I am a little upset,” I told him, “Please continue.”

“So why does the Goblin King not use _you_ to entertain my wife?”

 _Probably because I asked him not to involve me in his weird sex games?_ I couldn’t tell him that; instead I smiled coyly. “To be completely honest, I do not know. However, as I’ve told you before, Crown Prince Dagir, I am not _foolish_ enough to question the Goblin King’s actions.”

“Of course,” he said softly, holding out an arm, ever the courtly prince. “Let me take you back to the General.”

\--

Amer was standing with a woman I’d never seen before—she wore a heavily brocaded, full sleeved, white dress, cinched at the waist by a brilliant gold belt. A flaming gold circlet crowned her head, sitting atop her cascading, jet-black curls. Her eyes were a lighter shade of amber than Amer’s, and her skin a darker shade of bronze.

“General Amer,” Prince Dagir said with a curt nod. “Princess Mar,” he said to the woman, bowing lower. “Allow me to return the Goblin King’s prized mortal, _unharmed_ as you can see.”

Squashing the distinct urge to roll my eyes, I smiled at him politely, “If I find out the answer to your question, Crown Prince, I shall definitely tell you.”

Dagir looked at me for a few moments before replying, “I look forward to meeting you again, Lady of the Labyrinth.” Saying that, he flashed me a charming smile and sifted out of my view.

“That guy is a royal _creep_ ,” I said the second he disappeared.

Laughing deeply, Amer turned towards the Princess, “Mar, allow me to introduce Lady Sarah, the Defeater.” _Well, well_. It seemed as if he was on informal terms with said princess. “Lady Sarah,” he said to me, “Princess Mar of Buqahar.”

The princess smiled at me, amused. “You seem to have earned Amer’s regards quite promptly, Defeater,” she said, “I am impressed.”

I smiled back, “Thank you Princess Mar,” I bowed.

Mar placed a hand on Amer’s arm. “She will not face any objections from Buqahar, at least not from _me_ ,” she said softly, “I shall retire for the night before the _festivities_ begin.” The way she said festivities made me wonder what she meant.

I looked at Amer after she left. “Festivities?”

“Revelers get increasingly inebriated as the night goes on,” he explained, “Buqaharis…do not generally approve of consuming alcohol to the point of inebriation.” He took two glasses of sweet wine from a tray carried by a masked attendant, as he said this, “But we do consume alcohol occasionally.” He handed me a glass.

Taking a sip of the drink, I decided it was a bit too sweet for my liking. But still, it was the only form of alcohol being served, and I required as much liquid courage as I could muster. “I have a question to ask you Amer.” _Ugh_. I was beginning to speak like Jareth.

His eyes crinkled in amusement. “Go ahead.”

 _Well_. It was now or never. “Is Jareth evil?”

Amer stilled, his eyes darkening somberly. “I take it Dagir told you what happened during the last session.”

Shrugging casually, I continued, “I would have found out eventually anyway,” which was true enough, “the woman who…died…did she look like me?”

“I have never asked the King about what occurred during the last session,” Amer said with a heavy sigh, “You will have to get your answers from him. But as to whether the Goblin King is evil…I can only say that evil is a broad concept.”

I looked at him disbelievingly. “Come _on_ Amer. You have some very serious views regarding honor…don’t tell me you think evil is a _broad_ concept.”

The General ran a hand through his curly hair. “We are not human, Sarah—you cannot expect us to have the same views. The King has been known to toy with mortals and other beings alike, though perhaps he has gotten less _ruthless_ over time. As I told you before, Jareth has outlawed many cruel practices within the Labyrinth.”

I took another glass of sweet wine from a passing tray. “So he is _less_ evil than his predecessors.”

“Do you think I am evil, Sarah?” he asked suddenly, his amber eyes curious.

“No,” I replied immediately.

Smiling grimly at my quick reply, he said, “I have fought in a few minor wars and settled some border skirmishes, Lady Sarah—you would view me differently were you to have witnessed my brutal fighting techniques.”

“That’s not the point,” I said sharply, “I don’t see you driving a woman insane enough to commit suicide, for your own personal _amusement_.”

The General had nothing to say to that. “I urge you to seek these answers from the King, Lady Sarah—things aren’t always what they seem in the Underground. Come,” he held out a hand, “I shall lead you to Arges.”

An eerily familiar man with brown hair and aquamarine eyes accosted us as we walked across the hall. My blood froze as I recognized Calestos, the dream weaver.

“Modest human,” he said in the same quiet voice I’d heard in my dreams. “We finally meet.” He smiled attractively. “How I’ve waited to see your beautiful face.”

 _What the hell do you say to something like that_?! “Your wait is over then, isn’t it?” I asked chirpily. I wasn’t going to let me see me unnerved.

He laughed. “I suppose it is,” the gold flecks in his aquamarine eyes shone brightly, he looked so utterly harmless. “General Amer,” he nodded, finally acknowledging his presence, “I see you have extended your protection to the Lady of the Labyrinth.”

Amer stepped towards his direction, deliberately invading his personal space, “You see correctly.” That’s all he said, but his tone of voice would have made anyone back off. The General’s calm amber eyes were now burning fires.

Taking a step back, Calestos bowed slightly, “Until we meet again.” It didn’t escape me that he walked away rather hastily. Most of the beings in the Underground seemed terrified of Amer’s wrath…perhaps he was correct, I would see him differently if I knew of the things he’d done while fighting.

“ _That_ was interesting,” I said, trying to ease the tension.

“Calestos is a coward,” Amer’s eyes were fixated on Calestos’s retreating form. “He will only intimidate his victims when he knows they cannot fight back.”

I placed a hand on his arm. “Or when they don’t have amazing Ifriti generals protecting them,” I smiled at him.

Amer smiled back as he led me to Arges.

\--

By the time we reached Arges, I had consumed three and a half glasses of sweet wine—while I hadn’t tasted any of the alcohol in the drink, I started feeling the effects. The revelers had begun dancing – some with each other and others in a group, around the fires—and the pace of the music was picking up to a frenzied beat.  

Nudging me with his arm, Amer indicated a man who was leaning against a pillar, gazing out into the ocean. He too was dressed in an ivory jacket and brown trousers, like the rest of the Ageans. However, his jacket was shorter than the rest, and it was accented with pale gold.

“General Arges,” Amer spoke, “I am not surprised to find you standing alone.” There was a fleck of humor in his voice, but no aggression.

Arges took some time before turning around leisurely. He looked unswervingly into my eyes, making me take a step back—his eyes were a very pale shade of green, but his pupils were bright emerald.  He was olive toned, much like the rest of the Ageans, and his hair was on the lighter side of golden brown. His chiseled face had a certain feline quality to it, but I wouldn’t call him handsome.

“I expected you to seek me out, Lady of the Labyrinth,” his voice was deep and hoarse. “General Amer,” he said, “You know I wouldn’t harm the Goblin King’s newest subject. The fire band is unnecessary.”

“I’d rather keep it. If it’s all the same with you,” I cut in, relieved when Arges’s lips quirked into an amused smile. _So he had a sense of humor_.

“Lady Sarah, I have business to attend,” Amer said, his eyes were neutral as he looked at me, “I trust General Arges to escort you back to your chambers.” The imposing General took a step towards Arges, “I entrust Lady Sarah’s safety in your hands, General Arges.”

“Of course,” Arges replied with a quick nod. He extended an arm towards me, “Lady Sarah?”

I turned to look at Amer, but he had already sifted out of the hall, leaving me alone with Arges. “Are we sifting somewhere?” I asked, a tax anxious. Fire band or not, I wasn’t going to let him sift me without knowing where we were going.

Arges smiled a lazy smile, and at that moment, his face did turn handsome. He was like one of those male models who looked strangely alien on the catwalk, but gloriously handsome on a magazine spread. “We are _walking_ to the dock, Lady Sarah.”

 _Ah_. Taking his hand, I narrowed my eyes, “Why would this place require a dock if everyone sifts?”

Giving me an amused glance, Arges explained, “You see the attendants serving you, do you not? They are not powerful enough to sift. Neither are certain guests.” He swiped an open bottle of sweet wine from a passing attendant.

 _Perhaps he was one of those who couldn’t sift_. I hoped I hadn’t offended him by bringing it up.

Arges seemed to have read my mind. “I can sift short distances, but I much prefer to enter the Fire Hall by sea…sailing under a blanket of stars, savoring the salt in the air.”

 _Hmm_. A general with a romantic flair.

We walked in silence as we walked towards the water. He sat down at the very edge of the pier, legs hanging, and motioned for me to sit next to him.  Figuring that the worst he could do was push me into the sea, I did as he asked.

Taking a sip from the bottle of wine he had swiped earlier, he passed it onto me—smiling as I did the same. “I was told you like games,” I said, taking out the pack of cards from my little purse. “Would you like to learn how to play?” I asked teasingly.

Arges looked indifferent to the idea. “I would,” he replied, “The next time we meet.”

 _Okay then_. I’d been carrying around this purse, rather inconveniently, for no reason at all.

“There will _definitely_ be a next time,” Arges promised, the tone of his voice wasn’t threatening, but something about his words left me feeling uneasy. “So…Lady Sarah,” he said, taking another deep sip and handing the bottle to me. “The Goblin King sent you here for a reason, what is it?”

I was already more than a little tipsy courtesy the sweet wine, which was apparently stronger than it tasted. The fact that I hadn’t had dinner probably didn’t help. Neither did the fact that I’d just learned Jareth and _his princess_ had caused a woman to kill herself. I took the bottle from his hand and took a large gulp.

Staring into waves crashing below us, I figured honesty was probably a good way to go. “He wants to know about Deimos’s new source of power.”

Arges laughed long and hard. “Your forthrightness is refreshing,” he sounded entertained. “What makes him believe High King Deimos has a new source of power?”

I took another swig of the wine. “Calestos wove himself into my dreams with Deimos’s help.”

That stopped the Agean General’s laughter and his eyes turned sharp. “Did he?” The news seemed to surprise him, and not in a good way. 

“While I was coming out of a paradox spell.”

Arges’s pale eyes widened in shock. “You survived a paradox spell?” It was his turn to stare into the waves.

“Yup.”

Slowly lifting his eyes to meet mine, Arges held my gaze intensely. “I will arrange a meeting between my Queen and the Goblin King. The High King’s powers are… _complicated_.”

“So you won’t tell me anything?” I did my best to pout.

Arges smiled as he raised his hand to my hair. “May I? I’d rather not get burned alive.”

“Of course you may.” Apparently, inebriation had made me quite permissive.

Running a hand through my hair, he held a lock between his fingers, but he did not say anything.

I decided to goad him a little. “I thought the whole…mortal connection would make you sympathetic to my cause.” _Worst line ever_. Inebriation had made me blunt as well, more blunt than usual anyway.

“Sweet, _sweet_ Sarah,” his voice had taken on a sing-song tone. “My mortality has caused me far more grief than fortune. I am not sympathetic to your cause based on your mortality.”

 _Stupid_ Jareth and his _stupid_ plan. Arges did not want to play a game, and he seemingly hated being part mortal. I stared at him, unsure what to say next.

Arges ran his hand through my hair again, slower this time. “I will tell you what I know because I find you delightful.”

Lucky me. “So….” I began, “what _is_ Deimos’s new source of power?”

Throwing back his head, Arges laughed with abandon. “Dear mortal, as persistent as you seem to be, we do not give something for nothing.”

 _Oh lord_. Another cryptic son-of-a-bitch. “What would you like?” I had no idea what he wanted, and I had no idea how I would respond, but I was done with riddles.

The lines of his strangely feline face turned harsh. “Impress me.”

 _What_?! “And how do I do that?”

“Lady Sarah, you cannot impress me when you do not know how.” He was clearly enjoying himself.

Draining what remained of the sweet wine, I gave him back the empty bottle—this seemed to amuse him to no end. “Would you be impressed if I jumped into the water?” If I dove at an angle, I would be able to avoid the rocks below us easily, and I was used to swimming in the ocean. 

Arges stilled as his expression turned neutral. “Even if you manage to avoid the rocks, there are creatures that live in the Turquoise Sea that would claim you almost instantaneously.”

I shrugged. “You did not answer my question.”

“Yes,” he replied, grudgingly calling my bluff, “I would be impressed.”

Flashing him a serene smile, I stood up…

“Lady Sarah,” he moved as if to try and stop me, but he was too late.

…I jumped into the warm waters of the Turquoise Sea, letting it surround me before swimming up to the surface. “General Arges, are you impressed?” I shouted on the top of my lungs.

Standing up as swiftly as he could, Arges jumped into the sea without answering my question. “General Amer will set my very soul on fire should anything happen to you,” he rebuked, swimming up to me, “Lady Sarah, _take my hand_.”

I giggled before swimming away. “Not until you tell me you are impressed.”

Arges let out an angry sound from the back of his throat. “Lady Sarah, this is dangerous.”

“How impressed are you General, enough to tell me what you know?” I swam away again, laughing as he growled in frustration.

“ _Yes_ ,” he conceded, “take my hand.”

“That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” I said sweetly, reaching out for his hand—he immediately sifted us outside my personal entrance to the King Chambers.

\--

“I’m so sorry, I ruined your beautiful clothes,” I said, unable to hold back laughter as I looked at the General, his ivory jacket in ruins. “Though technically, it’s your fault.” Leaning my back against the door for support, I shut my eyes as I felt my peripheral vision blur. _Damn_ that sweet wine was going to give me a killer hangover.

“I disagree,” Arges said, leaning into me. His pale eyes were fixated on mine—he was looking at me as if I was the strangest being he had ever laid eyes upon.

“Yet you haven’t answered my question, General—what is Deimos’s new power source?” I wasn’t drunk enough to have forgotten that.

“So determined.” He gave me a quietly appraising look. “We shall discuss that when you are not intoxicated, Lady of the Labyrinth.”

Touching a finger to my lips when I opened my mouth to argue, Arges slanted his head and kissed me, his lips warm against my own. He smelled like lavender and he tasted of the sweet wine—richly aromatic. His tongue gently caressed mine, slowly coaxing me to kiss him back. I stood on my toes and closed my eyes, almost kissing him back as my arms clasped around his neck…until the Goblin King’s image came to the forefront of my mind and my heart beat wildly against my chest.  

“Arges,” I breathed, placing my hands on his chest, staring into his eyes. My heartrate took a while to normalize.

“Sarah.” He traced my face with his fingers. “Seek me out tomorrow and I shall answer your question.” Reaching into his now-ruined jacket, he pulled out my silk purse, “Perhaps you can teach me some games tomorrow.”

Handing me the beaded purse, he sifted out of the hallway.

\--

Stumbling into my room, I took off my heels, hoping the sea water hadn’t ruined them permanently. Streams of salty water dripped onto the marble floor as I walked to the bathroom, where I promptly took off my dress and jewelry before drawing a bubble bath and sinking into the tub—which wasn’t as big as the one in Jareth’s castle, but big enough to be comfortable. Dipping my head into the water, I washed my hair meticulously, making sure to get rid of all the salt.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Arges’s kiss. While he hadn’t evoked as strong a reaction from me as Jareth, I had almost kissed him back. My stomach churned furiously as I contemplated Jareth’s reaction. He was even _more_ dangerous than I had originally believed him to be.

Jareth…The Goblin King. I wondered how much of Dagir’s words were true—had he and Astre actually driven a woman insane…and derived some sadistic pleasure from the act? Even if they hadn’t sought her death, they _had_ brought her to the castle to _entertain themselves_ , as Dagir said. Whatever that meant. Had they been looking for some other poor sap to torture tonight? If I wasn’t useful to him as the Vessel, would he treat me differently—would he see me as another mortal to be used for his amusement?

I sighed, closing my eyes as I rested my head on the marble ledge of the bathtub. The only conclusion I could draw was that something horrific had occurred and Jareth was, at the very least, partly responsible.

Just as I was about to rise from the water and get ready for bed, I heard the Goblin King’s deeply amused voice interrupt my thoughts. “Did you _enjoy_ yourself tonight, _Sarah dearest_?”

\--

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I’d have liked to describe the Marble Palace, Sarah’s room, Fire Hall (etc.) in more detail, but I feel that those details would just draw out the story and make an already long story even longer. Let me know if you’re confused about any of the details I skipped. Some new characters in this one—I will add some character backgrounds at the end of chapter 1—which ones would you like to know more about?
> 
> AN2: Jareth is a morally ambiguous character. He’s not all good and not all evil—wanted to make clear that he isn’t some ‘good’ guy who has to be bad at times—he’s an actual mix.


	18. Starvation

 

_“Did you enjoy yourself tonight, Sarah dearest?”_

He was standing on the far wall, looking directly at me, one leg bent at the knee and heel flat against the wall. His body was tense in a way that I hadn’t seen before, and his eyes held an emotion so hauntingly penetrating, that I shivered in response.

I recalled Dagir’s disconcerting words from earlier:

_-“Last Court session was quite…diverting because they took their mutual fascination a bit too far.”_

_-“We do not know what occurred between them, but the woman was deeply affected. Her mind broke and she walked into the Turquoise Sea.”_

_-“So why does the Goblin King not use you to entertain my wife?”_

…which brought me to the single most troubling thought I’d had all evening—how would he have treated me if I wasn’t the Vessel? Looking into his unnerving eyes, I realized that I couldn’t come up with an answer I found acceptable.

“What do you want, Your Highness?” I asked, surprised when my voice came out steady. I supposed my inhibitions were still lowered from all the sweet wine.

Jareth did not move a muscle for a few heartbeats. “Why so formal?” he asked, voice calm, and tone mild; but I could sense a storm brewing underneath the surface. “I wanted to make sure you hadn’t drowned in the bath given your current…state.”

_Oh please._

Sitting up straight, I leaned back authoritatively, placing my arms on either side, elbows resting on the marble ledge of the bathtub. “I’m fine.” The water level in the tub reached right below my nipples, exposing them to the cool air in the bathroom. I made no attempt to hide myself—he was in _my_ space, let me deal with the consequences.

_Goblin King, Goblin King, not so easily intimidated anymore, am I?_

Jareth couldn’t stop his gaze from dropping to my semi exposed breasts, his dual eyes darkening immediately—it took a few moments before he met my eyes. “Explain to me, _dearest_ , why your dress looks like it is soaked in sea water?” he asked, a touch of mild curiosity coloring his voice—as if he was asking a simple question about the weather.

I raised my brows. “That’s obvious. Because it is,” I kept my tone coolly flippant. Water sloshed against my nipples—the difference in temperature between the warm water and cool air made my flesh break out in goosebumps.

“ _Sarah_ ,” Jareth chided, smiling serenely, his glittering eyes never leaving my face. “Could it be that you were so _ill-advised_ as to enter the Turquoise Sea?” A small twitch in his jaw accompanied the question—the only telling sign of the emotional storm brewing inside him.

“Yes, I was so _ill-advised_ ,” I said curtly, “Arges wasn’t _impressed_ with my mortality or pack of cards so I had to improvise. I know it was dangerous so spare me your _judgment_. He’s arranging a meeting between you and Ceres.” I left out the part where Arges had said he would tell me what he knew. Information was power in this world, and I wasn’t going to let the little power I had get away.

A slow smirk and a flash of pointy teeth. The air turned heavy with Jareth’s magic—so heavy that I could feel it weighing down my shoulders. I could see his breathing quicken but his stare remained unfaltering. “You were irresponsible with your life, Sarah,” he sneered, viciously condescending, “I will judge you to my heart’s content… your life belongs to _me_ and _not_ to you.”

 _Asshole_. “ _Excuse me_?” I sat up straighter, water splashing against my chest. My breasts were now fully exposed, but I wasn’t backing down.

Jareth did not miss a beat. “Your life is bound to mine—you put yourself in danger, and by proxy, you put _me_ in danger. Foolish mortal child.” There was deep, churning anger below his deathly calm demeanor. His breathing had quickened—I could see the rise and fall of his chest.

His words were meant to incite my wrath, but I knew getting angry would solve nothing, so I did everything in my power to keep my expression coolly indifferent. “Fine,” I said, shrugging casually. “My life belongs to you. Do whatever the hell you like, I promise I won’t walk into the ocean and drown myself.”

_Brilliant, Williams, you are a fucking idiot. Why would you bring that up?_

The air around the room became even heavier, weighing down my shoulders uncomfortably. Jareth’s power surrounded everything, icy rage pounded against the marble walls.

Jareth pursed his lips. “I wondered who would be obtuse enough to tell you that little story.”

“Prince Dagir. He doesn’t seem to like you very much,” I answered, unfazed. “Take it up with him.”

And just like that, the heaviness disappeared.

“Busy little bee, aren’t you?” Jareth’s tranquil voice was at odds with his chilling smile. “You spoke to Dagir, you impressed Arges…what _else_ did you do, _my dearest_?” His unnerving gaze dropped back down to my breasts and my nipples hardened in response.

A slow blush started spreading up my chest, up my neck. A combination of terror, fury and lust threatened to consume my senses. _Get yourself together, Williams_ , I scolded myself, _do not lose this round_.

Rising from the tub, I put on a rose colored, silk robe that had been laid out for me, making sure to keep every movement slow and deliberate. Facing away from him and towards the mirror, I wrung the excess water from my hair and let it fall loosely onto my shoulders in a tangled mass. I met his gaze in the mirror, noticing that his eyes had turned almost black with desire.

Holding his gaze, I ran a comb through my wet hair. “I did many things, _Jareth dearest_ , be specific.” I gave him a small smile and kept my voice sweet, “I did kiss Arges, or he kissed me. Doesn’t matter. Is _that_ what this is about?”

Jareth only stared back, eyes glittering dangerously, his body tense against the wall.

The devil on my shoulder encouraged me to incite him some more. The asshole deserved it. “Is _that_ what you came to tell me—that I belong to you and so does my mouth? I have to ask you every time I… _use_ it?”

The angel on my shoulder was screaming at me to stop, but the devil encouraged me to push Jareth as far as I could.

Deliberately applying some balm on my lips, I made sure to keep my voice low, “I’m sure I can impress Arges quite _convincingly_. After all, you did tell me once that I use my mouth _so well_.”

Jareth suddenly _hissed_. His body tensed even more, like a coiled spring ready to break free, and his breathing was visibly erratic. His harshly beautiful face had the expression of a serpent ready to strike. “How you turn my world, my _precious_ Sarah,” he said, his voice salacious.

_What did that even fucking mean?_

“Just as much as you turn mine, Jareth” I replied, turning around. I made a show of walking over to him slowly, until I was inches away—effectively trapping him against the wall. Fire ran through my veins, partly due to rage, and partly desire. Seeing him so… _reactive_ ignited a depraved sense of satisfaction within me. “Don’t call me precious.”

 Jareth laughed quietly, lips settling into a bow shaped smile. “Why ever not?” He asked, shutting his eyes as he leaned his head back against the wall. His lips were slightly parted. “My _precious_ Sarah, my greatest strength and my greatest weakness.” The mockery in his tone seemed to be directed towards himself as he looked at me through his silvery lashes. 

My blood ran hot as my temper rose to a frenzied crescendo before erupting into lust, violence, and something else entirely. I was either going to go Scarface on him or fuck him against the bathroom wall. Except, I didn’t have an M16.

Standing on my toes, I held my face close to his until I could feel his breath on my lips. _Too close_. “I am _not_ a weakness,” I declared, “Not _yours_ or anyone _else’s_.” It took every ounce of will-power to whirl around and walk away without kissing him, but I managed to do just that. The first half at least.

I had fully intended to walk out of the bathroom and slam the door in the Goblin King’s face – but he caught my wrist in a vice-like grip and pulled me towards himself vehemently, slamming my body against his. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he crushed his open mouth onto mine. It wasn’t a romantic kiss. It was something hot enough to be scalding, it was raw and sexual—possessive, like he was claiming me.

_Except, I was already his, wasn’t I?_

Twisting me around, he rammed my back against the marble wall—my head hit the surface hard enough to make my teeth rattle. His mouth felt hot and slick as his tongue delved deep into mine, making me whimper. Nipping my lower lip with his sharp, sharp teeth, Jareth placed a trail of blazing kisses down my neck—smiling against my skin as I moaned.

He lifted me up expertly, holding the backs of my thighs, and pressed me against the wall with the weight of his legs. In all my fervent haze, I noticed he did not use magic to hold me up.

Entwining my legs around his waist, I grinded my hips against him, grinning as I felt him pressed against me. Jareth groaned—his glove free hands slid down my neck and against my breasts, palms brushing across nipples through the sheer silk robe. Feeling tormented with need, I grinded my hips harder, moaning when I felt his heat.

Jareth growled low in his throat sliding his fingers down my front and inside me, taking in a sharp breath when he found me dripping, ready for him. Just as I was prepared for him to fuck me right there, he pulled back.

 _Motherfucker_.

Breathing frenetically, Jareth rested his forehead onto mine, his stormy eyes boring into my soul. “Why is it,” he spoke, his voice rough with need, “that I lose control so very easily, with you?” The underlying tremor in his voice indicated that his control was only hanging by a thread.

_The mighty Goblin King was about to lose control. The devil and angel on my shoulders decided to call a truce._

As sorely tempted as I was, to shut him up by crushing my mouth against his, my pride won that battle against lust. I’d _already_ thrown myself at him once before; this time, it was up to him. “You tell me,” I answered, my voice coming out husky.

Burying his face in the crook of my neck, Jareth breathed my scent, his hair tickling the tops of my breasts. “You smell like the Turquoise Sea…”

Looking at him, my eyes hooded with lust, I taunted him, “Not Arges?” _And so, the devil was back._

Eyes blazing, Jareth snarled, gripping the edge of my robe and tearing it off my body. Breathing raggedly, he pressed his arousal into me before pulling himself away. I didn’t say anything to incite him further. Something told me I would not like the consequences.

“Not like this,” he whispered into my ear, voice gravelly. “This time, _precious_ ,” his arresting gaze turned dark, “We shall do things _my_ way.”

In a flash, we were on a large bed in a massive room that was similar to mine, only much bigger—I supposed it was his. Thankfully, there was no canopy on the bed, making the experience less claustrophobic.

Shoving my shoulders back, Jareth laid me down on the bed and started, kissing every inch of my skin—from my neck to my knees, his lips cool against my fevered flesh. His feather light fingers stroked my body, lightly brushing over my nipples until I cried with need.

“Look at me when I touch you, Sarah,” he commanded, closing his hot mouth over a breast, tongue playing with my nipple.

I obeyed without question, looking into his unnerving eyes, letting out a tortured gasp when his tongue danced across my hardened nub. He reached a hand between my legs, barely touching my heated flesh.

“Jareth,” I whispered, half moan, half snarl. If he didn’t touch me soon, I would start screaming.

Jareth smirked lazily. _Just how had he regained his composure so quickly?_ “You want me to touch you, do you not?” His fingers skimmed my folds lightly and I raised my hips, desperately trying to reach him.

“Yes,” I whispered, gasping when he slipped two fingers inside me, moving them ever so slowly.

His piercing gaze turned triumphant. “How much, my _precious_ Sarah?” his fingers stopped and I gasped in protest.

I knew he wouldn’t continue until I answered him, so I replied, “Desperately, Jareth.” I was so dripping wet and my body was beginning to perspire—if he didn’t fuck me soon, I was ready to beg.

A rumbling laugh. “Oh, my _desperate_ creature.” Eyes locked onto mine, he lowered his head in between my legs and tasted me, tongue running along the full length of my slit slowly. Deliberately. His fingers kept pumping leisurely, making me wild with need.

I felt a sharp nip on my thigh when my eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“Look at me,” his voice was sharp, but his pacing remained unhurried. His eyes were silver and black, they had a hunger in them that I hadn’t seen before. Circling my clit with his tongue, he picked up the pace of his fingers. I was getting close.

“Please, Jareth,” I moaned loudly, ready to sob as I felt the pressure build, leaving me teetering on the edge.

Switching his tongue for his hand, Jareth teased my clit with his fingers while circling my entrance with his tongue.

He looked at me before sliding three fingers inside me, moving them a bit faster than before. “You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, “I can tell—you’re _dripping_ , precious.” He laughed darkly when I moaned again, “And so _fucking_ loud.” Saying that, he kneeled back in between my legs, his tongue lapping at me at a feverish pace, his hands forcibly holding my thighs apart.

“Jareth,” I cried, hips bucking into his face, my thighs trying to clamp shut against the rabid invasion of his tongue. I was so damn close. Jareth placed the tip of his tongue at my entrance and pressed—I fell over the edge.

I came so hard, Jareth had to hold my hips against the mattress so he could continue lapping me as the shockwaves of my orgasm died down. I sobbed and moaned the entire time, not caring that my throat would probably be raw the next day.

After giving me a few seconds to recover, Jareth sat up on the bed and pulled me into his lap, his legs on either side of my body. “My _precious_ creature,” he whispered, kissing my shoulder and running the tip of his tongue against the contours of my shoulder blade. I felt him hot and hard against my back. Nipping the back of my neck, he reached between my legs and inserted a thumb inside me, moving it in a circular motion until I was soaked with need again.

Just when I was wavering at the edge again, he replaced his thumb with an index finger and pressed against my inner walls until he found a spot that made me yelp. It felt almost _unbearable_ , like a twinge of electric pleasure shooting out, throughout my body.

I could feel pressure build up again, but this time it was different. I felt full and heavy until I couldn’t bear it any longer. “Jareth,” I whimpered.

A slow chuckle. “Relax, precious,” he rumbled, his lips laying kissing against the back of my neck, my shoulders, behind my ear. Every time he ran his index finger over the spot inside me, I yelped. I was getting close.

“Relax,” he whispered, rubbing the spot. Just when I was ready to collapse with pleasure, he bit the side of my neck and paused his ministrations.

“Jareth,” I pleaded, voice completely hoarse.

“Scream for me—I want to hear you.”

He pressed the spot with the pad of his finger and my orgasm hit suddenly—I came, _hard_. Even harder than before. My body writhed against his as I moaned, screaming his name as he had commanded. Holding me, almost gently, he kissed and suckled my neck as I came down.

“I’ve waited to have you like this, Sarah,” Jareth murmured, laying me down, my back flat on the bed. He parted my legs, lifting a leg behind the knee to spread me wider. Observing me intensely for a few moments, he studied the lines of my face. Perhaps I was imagining it, but the look on his face was almost tender.

He buried himself inside me in one swift plunge, pressing his cool lips on my neck while, letting out a smothered groan. “Sarah.” That was all he said before he began thrusting rhythmically, his hands gripping my hips.

Jareth moaned, his voice low, as his thrusts became more rapid, and I rose to meet his rhythm. Once again, my climax started building, my core becoming wetter with each thrust—how was this… _nightmarish_ being able to incite such a wanton reaction from me? I gave a startled moan when Jareth pulled my hips, thrusting deeper within me.

Quieting my moans with a deep kiss, Jareth explored my mouth lazily—as if he wanted to devour me whole. His legs tensed and his thrusts became erratic—I could feel my own body ready itself for another release. He circled his hips then and pressed himself as deeply within me as he could - I felt the pressure bubble burst, and my orgasm rippled through me. A few deep thrusts later, Jareth made a choking sound as he found his release, his face buried in my hair, and we held each other as the waves of pleasure subsided.

Even in my endorphin induced pleasure haze, I knew I needed some time to process what just happened. _Again_.

I scrambled up, putting a little distance between our spent bodies. Fighting the instinctive urge to bolt, I forced myself to relax and initiate some ‘pillow talk.’ If historical novels were to be believed, kings were most susceptible to being honest after a good romp. And _that_ , praise Jesus, was a _good_ romp.

Jareth looked up at me, his dual gaze lightened with humor. “You look like a wild animal ready to escape,” he sounded darkly amused. Any trace of tenderness had disappeared from his stark face. I did not know whether to be pleased or angry—at least _this_ Jareth was familiar. Tender Jareth made me think I was hallucinating.

“What are we doing here, Jareth, really?” I asked bluntly. “Don’t give me some smart ass answer saying we’re relaxing after having sex—that’s not what I mean. _What_ are we doing at Court and _when_ can we leave?”

Raising a brow, Jareth traced his fingers along my hipbone. “We’re making alliances, _precious_.”

How descriptive. “Would you care to elaborate?”

A spark of playfulness flared in his eyes. “No.”

Apparently, pillow talk with Jareth was completely useless. Maybe it just worked on human kings. “I need to leave,” I told him, voice throaty but stable.

The playfulness in his eyes turned icy. “You do not have anywhere to run, precious.”

 _Yes I do—anywhere away from you_. “Then the least you can do is answer _some_ of my questions, Your Highness.”

A deep sigh. “We are leaving day after.” He noted the look of relief on my face, “I shall put an end to your trials tomorrow.”

 _Okay then_. This was getting awkward. “Could you _please_ send me to my room, like…last time?” I pleaded, cringing a little. I was turning into a Cinderella of sorts—instead of fleeing at midnight, I fled after fucking Jareth.

“So eager to leave my bed,” Jareth quipped. Cool amusement lingered in his voice, but there was something else there, something _sharper_ , “How you starve me of your affections, my _dearest_.”

Looking at him wide eyed, it was on the tip of my tongue to ask what the _fuck_ he meant by that, but I digressed. I decided to keep my mouth shut, lest I shoved my foot in it again.

Jareth bowed his head derisively. “Very well,” he rumbled, face slipping back to its impassive mask.

And just like that, I was wearing a robe—not the same one he had ripped from my body, but a bigger, taupe colored robe. The telltale smell of leather and pinecones made me surmise that it was his.

“Come, Sarah,” he said, holding out a hand. Even after being so utterly spent, I couldn’t stop feeling a flicker of desire as I drank in his image—he was clad in a pair of taupe colored, silk pajama bottoms and his chest lay bare.

A victorious smirk, “Sarah?”

Blushing deeply, I took his hand—feeling relieved when we sifted back into my room.

I looked at him, unsure of what to say. “I’ll see you after I get back from the marketplace.”

Looking at me for a few beats, Jareth spoke slowly, “You did well, Sarah—getting a meeting with Ceres would have been… _challenging_.”

“I aim to please,” I teased.

His eyes turned cold and his face harsh. “Never put yourself in danger like that.”  Saying that, he left me in my room, without sparing a second glance.

\--

The shopping trip with Iselin was turning out to be surprisingly fun. The Agean Market ran for miles along the Turquoise coast—littered with colorful stalls of clothes, jewelry, trinkets, weapons etc. It was truly surprising to see so many people in the Underground, especially as I had only been exposed to Jareth’s empty castle. It was also surprising to see humans buy and sell goods along with other Ageans. I’d always expected humans to be second tier citizens, but somehow, I was learning that that wasn’t necessarily the case.

As I suspected, Iselin was a spoiled brat, and not someone _truly_ harmful. In fact, we’d jumped head on into a conversation regarding the last time we met at King’s Castle. As it turned out, she had not wanted to attend, but had been forced by King Oren, who, incidentally, was also her uncle. So, like any spoiled brat worth her salt, Iselin had tried her best to sabotage the event by coming on to Jareth.

She said that she had also thought of coming on to me, but never had the chance as I left early. I smirked silently at that—little did she know that she had indeed asked me to join her and Jareth in the weirdest threesome invite of all time. Weirdest one I’d received anyway.

“How about this, Defeater?” Iselin asked, holding up a cobalt blue, column dress. “I think this dress would suit you.”

I waved her off. She had been trying to get me to buy a gazillion things for myself—especially after learning that I had all of Jareth’s treasury at my disposal. “I could never wear this in the Goblin Kingdom,” I reasoned, “Human, remember? I’d freeze to death.”

Rolling her eyes, Iselin grabbed another dress of a similar design, but a pale, shimmering yellow. “This?”

Made of thin, refined silk and gold spun thread, the dress _did_ look beautiful. “Fine,” I conceded, “I’ll take it.” Of course, in the Goblin Kingdom, I’d have to wear the damn thing under a heavy coat.

“Defeater,” Iselin said as we walked deeper into the market stalls, “I was wondering…” she drifted off into silence.

 _Good grief. I hoped she wouldn’t proposition me again_. “Yes?”

“The Goblin King…” she drifted off again, eyes facing the Turquoise Sea. “And…”

“Iselin, you need to get to the point,” I interrupted.

She looked at me, her gray eyes determined. “Is General Amer the King’s lover?”

I stared at her for a few seconds before doubling over with laughter. Choking and wheezing for a few minutes, I was finally able to stop. “No.”

She looked relieved. “What about you and Am-”

“No,” I interrupted before she completed that sentence. “Definitely not.”

Her translucent skin was turning pink—partly due to the Agean sun and partly due to embarrassment. “Is General Amer involved currently?”

Raising my brows incredulously, I gaped at her. She had a crush on Amer? Poor, _poor_ Iselin—I knew for a fact that he disliked most Nastrondisians, her included. “Not that I know of,” I said diplomatically.

Fortunately, that was good enough for Iselin at the moment. “But you _have_ taken the Goblin King to bed, have you not?”

_Whoa. She got really personal, really quickly._

I fumbled, thinking of an adequate response. “I cannot answer that question without seeking his approval.”

Iselin’s gray eyes widened in disbelief. “The entire western wing of the Marble Palace heard you last night, Defeater. You cannot seriously try and deny that you are lovers.”

_This was just fucking great. Wasn’t marble supposed to be fucking soundproof?_

I sighed. “Fine, I’ve taken the Goblin King to bed.”

She grinned widely, “My cousin is a little perturbed. Her perfect companion seems to be busy elsewhere.”

She had my attention at ‘my cousin.’ “Your cousin?” I asked, nonchalant.

Looking at me slyly, Iselin’s grin turned feline. “You _know_ which cousin, Defeater. She’s quite curious about you,” she added, casually riffling through a jewelry display case and picking out a few pieces. She looked at me through the corners of her eyes, “Are _you_ not curious?”

“I’ll ask relevant questions to the King.”

Iselin gave me a look that said she did not believe me. “Anyway, the last time they met was during the last session—he has avoided her since.”

“How do you know _she_ hasn’t been avoiding _him_?” I asked, genuinely curious. I believed the theory that no one knows what goes on between two people, apart from said people themselves.

Shrugging casually, Iselin explained, “I overheard her complain to Uncle Oren.”

_Ah. That made sense._

Looking at me curiously, Iselin asked, “Does it not bother you as a mortal? Or a runner, at least?”

I raised a brow. “Doesn’t _what_ bother me?”

“Bedding the Goblin King when he is known to for his…cruelty towards both?” Her eyes were wide again—I could sense she was genuinely curious and not just trying to gather gossip.

I knew I couldn’t answer her with complete honesty, but I tried thinking of a genuine response. “Many things about this arrangement bother me, Iselin. But I _would_ like to know more about Jareth and his games before deciding on that matter.”

She looked wary now—like she knew she was treading on dangerous ground.

“I’ll probably find out anyway,” I told her, keeping my tone light and coaxing, “But I thought you could share what you know with me…as my _friend_.”

Iselin’s ears perked up at ‘friend.’ “They used to play with the runners who forfeited the game—the ones who accepted their _dreams_. Most of them were mortals from the human realm, as _we_ recognize the danger of accepting one’s dreams from the _Child Executioner_.”

I shuddered, recalling Jareth’s words from years earlier…

_-“But if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams.”_

“They used to take these forfeiters and…torment them,” Iselin explained, “I was only of ten winters when Astre brought a male forfeiter and seduced him before taking him to the Rising Forests near the Northern Sea Cliffs and leaving him there…with a Roast Skin.”

“Roast Skin?” I asked.

Shivering, Iselin nodded. “They’re creatures made of nightmares—the Goblin King can conjure up one at will. This man survived a week in the forest before the Roast Skin got him and killed him slowly.”

“How slowly?” I asked, unable to keep my morbid curiosity at bay.

“A month. I heard them talk about him and laugh.”

I gaped, sudden nausea beginning to gnaw at the pit of my stomach. “How long,” my voice broke, “when was this?”

Iselin eyed me with interest—while she was also affected by the memory, she clearly did not find it as horrifying as I did. “A century and six winters.”

I took some solace in the fact that the event took place a long time ago. “When was the last time they did anything like this?” I asked, adding “Excluding the last session at Court.”

Frowning, Iselin answered, “The last forfeiter I remember was a non-mortal, a Visanyanese. I heard Jareth gave her as a sacrifice to the Bone Priestesses.”

 _Jesus_. “When?” I had to stop as a sudden surge of vertigo hit me, making my nausea worse.

“Twenty winters,” Iselin said softly, assessing my reaction. “Please do not tell the Goblin King about this,” she implored—she clearly feared him. With good fucking reason.

“How do you like our markets, Lady of the Labyrinth?” A familiar male voice called from behind us, interrupting our gruesome conversation.

“General Arges.” I bowed. “I have to say, I’m _impressed_ ,” I said, winking at him.

Arges laughed, his face molding into its handsome, magazine spread avatar. “Princess Iselin, I believe the Nastrondisian party is looking for you,” he said, nodding at her before turning his attention back to me. “I thought to take you to our vineyards, Lady Sarah—perhaps we can continue our conversation from the night before.”

“By your leaves, Defeater, General Arges,” Iselin said hurriedly, scrambling to sift back to her chambers in the Marble Palace. “I shall see you soon,” she said to me, “Perhaps at the Goblin Feast?”

“Of course,” I nodded, “Good bye, Princess Iselin.”

“Princess Iselin is quite… _entertaining_ at times,” Arges said, smiling as she sifted out of our sight.

I gave him a look. “She’s actually nice,” I said, mentally agreeing that all was definitely not what it seemed in the Underground.

“Shall we?” he asked, smiling lightly as he extended a hand, “Our sunsets are known to be breathtaking and I want to make a good _impression_.”

This made me laugh out loud as I took his hand. “Sift us away, General.”

\--

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sarah’s learning to be quite manipulative. Jareth finally shows some physiological reactions. Hooray.
> 
> Reviewers get GK shaped cookies.
> 
> Character backgrounds being added by the next update.


	19. Master of Nightmares

 

The Agean vineyards were breathtaking, as was the sunset. Taking a sip of one of the many different types of wines Arges had laid out on the table, I savored the rich, smoky flavor. “I like this one the best,” I said—indicating the glass, “I prefer dry to sweet wines.”

We were sitting in a gazebo made of rough marble—amid rolling hills with rows and rows of grape shrubs and olive trees. The sky was red and orange as the warm Agean sun faded into the distance.

“Try this one,” the General said, handing me a glass with wine so dark, it looked almost purple. “This is our specialty.”

Holding the stem delicately, I breathed in the earthy scent of the dark liquid before taking a small sip. While the taste was similar to a vintage, smoky merlot, the effect was different—I could feel my skin tingle with a pleasant feeling—a vibration of sorts. “That’s special alright, what is it?” I asked, putting the glass away. As non-threatening as Arges seemed, consuming magical wine wasn’t a very smart thing to do.

Arges laughed, his almost-too-light shining amusedly. “That is premium quality Agean Cer, Lady Sarah,” he said, a smile still on his lips. “I am quite surprised you have a taste for Cer as it is not popular outside Agea.”

“That explains why I haven’t had it at King’s Castle,” I quipped—we _had_ sampled quite a variety of wine at Jareth’s castle, from all over the Underground, I was surprised to have skipped this one.

“That the Goblin King should keep any kind of Agean wine is a revelation,” the General replied, his voice dry. “The war created a rift that hasn’t healed.”

This was my chance to ask a question. Widening my eyes, I let a small furrow crease my forehead, indicating confusion. “Would you like the rift to heal, General?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

Arges looked into my eyes deeply, the feline angles of his face softening a little. “Yes,” he replied softly before pouring two glasses of crimson colored wine. “This is a lighter wine, but it is not sweet.”

I raised a brow. “Are you trying to get me drunk, General Arges?”

Smiling widely, Arges leaned back against his seat, and took a sip from his glass. “I would never do that, Lady Sarah. It’s against my code of ethics as a General.”

I laughed a genuine laugh before taking a sip from mine—I could taste apricots and cinnamon. “Then shall we continue our conversation from the night before?”

“Of course,” Arges nodded curtly. “Although, I’m afraid I cannot give you the answers you seek, Lady Sarah.” His voice held an apologetic tone and his smile turned grim. “While Deimos and Reyerjis have become more powerful because of her _bloodmagick_ ,” he face contorted in distaste, “we were unable to find a new power source.”

Staring at him for a few beats, I wondered whether he was telling the truth. “Perhaps it is hidden?”

“No,” he said, firmly shaking his head before turning away. “A power source so great as to allow Calestos to weave your dreams, while you were in the Goblin Kingdom, would definitely be detectable.” Arges paused, as if considering whether he should tell me something else. “It has come to our knowledge that Deimos plans to utilize the Labyrinth’s power in the near future.”

I gaped at that. “How is that even possible?”

Tilting his head, Arges eyed at me curiously. “I do not know, but Deimos would become dangerously powerful. I believe the Goblin King would like to… _avoid_ such a scenario, and so would I.”

We were all fucked six ways to Sunday if Deimos managed to tap into the Labyrinth. “Why?” I asked, cringing as the word left my lips. I could never be subtle while stressed.

Arges turned somber. “I would fear for my Queen’s safety.”

 _Oh_. That still did not explain how Deimos and Reyerjis were able to invade my mind. Raising my eyes to meet his, I almost flinched at the intensity of his gaze—and _then_ I understood what he was trying to say. “You think they’ll do it through me…” I whispered, suddenly nervous.

“Yes,” he said, a perceptive look in his eyes.

 _But how_? “This trip just keeps getting better and better.”

Arges suddenly leaned into me. “I seem to have upset you, Lady Sarah, allow me to change the subject,” he said, “I hear you do not eat flesh, may I enquire as to the reason.”

I raised my brows, a bit thrown off—no one else in the Underground had asked me this question. Deciding to keep my answer as simple as possible, I responded, “I find the ethics behind that area to be gray at best and the quality of animal flesh in the human realm has deteriorated into something poisonous.” And I’d seen a rather horrific video on YouTube, but there was no way I could explain that.

Arges seemed satisfied with the answer. “Then you do not partake in the Silver Bearers’ full moon hunt?”

“I’ve never heard of the full moon hunt,” I replied, “Sounds sinister.”

“I suppose it can be seen as such,” the General agreed, his tone amused, “The Silver Bearers partake in a monthly elk hunt, Lady Sarah. When the moon is full, they set out to consume the forest’s magic, and thereby strengthen their own.” He looked at me, studying my every reaction, “They do it by devouring the beating heart of the beast.”

 _Beating heart_? My eyes narrowed. “You mean they eat it raw?”

Arges laughed, his face turning handsome. “Yes. They rip the heart out of the beast with their teeth.” His voice turned low, “You’ve felt the sharpness of their teeth.”

Blood crept up my cheeks—I knew I had a large bite mark, courtesy of Jareth, on my neck that was visible. Refusing to feel embarrassed, I forced myself to smile. “That sounds so _unappetizing_.”

The General’s face turned handsomer still as he laughed wholeheartedly. “The Nastrondisians eat elk heart as well, Lady Sarah—but they cook it first into a pudding like dish. I believe it is a northwestern delicacy.”

“I’ll take their word for it,” I said, smiling as he laughed some more.

“May I interrupt?” The Goblin King’s smoothly melodic, yet discordant voice cut sharply into the General’s laughter.

I turned around to see Jareth leaning against the gazebo wall, his face as expressionless as ever as he turned his gaze to the many different glasses of wine on the table beside us.

Arges stood up almost immediately, “Anything you please, Goblin King,” he said with a deep bow. “I trust your meeting with my Queen went well?”

Jareth smiled wide enough to flash his pointy teeth, leaving me wondering whether he’d heard our conversation. “The High Queen is gracious and resourceful, meeting with her is always an honor.”

Following protocol, I stood up and bowed. “Do you need me for something, Your Highness?” I asked pleasantly.

Jareth looked at me, eyes raking over my body. “You _, my dearest_?” he asked, a mocking edge to his tone. “Always. Your presence is required at tonight’s dinner, Sarah.” He held out a gloved hand, “Shall we?”

So… _he_ was in a difficult mood.

Looking at Arges, I bowed lightly, bidding him goodbye. “Will I see you at dinner tonight?” I felt Jareth’s slim fingers close around mine.

“I will be at the Queen’s congregation.” Arges bowed low, like he would to a princess. “I have some parting word of advice for you Lady Sarah, will you accept?”

“Of course,” I replied, my fingers tensed as Jareth’s grip tightened.

“Your instincts are sharp for a mortal—especially for an inexperienced one from the human realm. I would advise you to practice your… _strategic_ skills.”

 _Okay, that was vague_. “Thank you,” I said, unsure of what else I could have said. “Good bye, General.”

“Farewell,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “I hope you’ll impress me the next time we meet.”

I was unable to stop myself from bursting into laughter at his lame joke—Jareth’s fingers tightened just a tad before we sifted out of the beautiful Agean vineyards.

\--

Jareth sifted us right into my room, dressing room area to be exact, where an intricately layered outfit was laid out for me to wear—complete with heavy jewelry.

“It’s going to take me at least two hours, _with_ Cryen and Xia’s help, to get into all of that,” I complained, groaning at the thought of the exhausting process.

“Then I suggest you hurry, _precious_.” Jareth’s voice was clipped as he moved away to sift out of my room. “I shall come back for you within the hour, do not keep me waiting.”

“Could you help out?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. I wasn’t quite comfortable with asking for his help. I’d been doing that way too much lately, and something told me I’d eventually have to pay the piper.

Slanting his face, his dual eyes narrowing, Jareth smiled slowly. “I could.”

 _Jerk_. “So…are you going to?”

He stared at me intensely for a few moments before finally replying, “As you wish.”

Closing my eyes, I felt the familiar hum of his magic envelope me—this _definitely_ beat getting ready the non-magic way. I winced sharply as a biting cold sensation brushed against my spine. My eyes flew open.

“Don’t be startled,” Jareth rumbled, eyes glittering with malicious humor. He was dressed in a midnight black leather jacket and matching pants. While this wasn’t his official armor, I understood that it was meant to mimic the Goblin King’s battle regalia. His silvery gold hair looked even wilder than usual.

Surprised to see my outfit still laid out, I looked at my reflection in the mirror—he’d dressed me in a simple white robe-like dress, much like the one worn by the Silver Lady, held up at the shoulders by a silver clasp and the Astar sigil. My hair was loose and my lips were stained silver—I did not have a single piece of jewelry on my person.

“Are you done staring at yourself?” Just like that, the malicious undertone disappeared from his voice—replaced with cool amusement.

Rolling my eyes, I refrained from saying anything sarcastic. “Thanks for not making me wear that torture device they laid out for me.”

A raised brow. “I cannot _make_ you do anything, Sarah.”

 _Yeah right. He’d tricked me into binding myself to him_. Of course, I didn’t say that. Keeping a smile on my face, I made sure to sound grateful as I spoke, “Thanks anyway.”

Jareth laughed long and hard. “Practicing your strategic skills, I see.”

And I thought I had been doing a good job—but as usual, he could read me like a book. Two could play that game. “You’re confusing them, aren’t you?” I asked, my voice coming out sharper than I intended.

Peering at me with calculating eyes, Jareth stilled. “You noticed?”

I grinned. “You display me like a shiny prize, you want to parade your _ownership_ of the _Defeater of the Labyrinth_. At the same time, you make sure I wear the Astar sigil. You’ve clearly given Amer free reign to incinerate anyone who may try and harm me, but _you’ve_ kept your distance. The Court is pretty damn confused as to what I mean to you.” Hell, I was confused myself, come to think of it.

Smiling toothily, Jareth held out his hand, “Come along then, my _shiny prize_.”

\--

Tonight’s dinner was being held in an indoor hall adorned in shades of cream and gold. The walls and flooring were intricately mosaicked. There were fire torches along the pillars, and large, sweeping windows that opened up to night sky. Thankfully, there were fewer revelers than the night before—this meant, I could end the night early and get some rest.

Knowing the Ageans’ lack of imagination when it came to naming their palaces and halls, I guessed this room was probably called the Mosaic Hall.

“Something you find diverting?” Jareth asked, studying my face with an amused expression.

“Just that we clash horribly with the décor,” I improvised, though the statement was true enough.  The Goblin Kingdom was also pretty unimaginative when it came to naming castles and halls.

“Goblin King. Lady of the Labyrinth.” Came Reyerjis’s fluty, musical voice from behind.

I froze.

Fortunately, Jareth’s magic forced my muscles to relax and I felt a thin glaze film my eyes, hiding my emotions. She was dressed quite similarly as when I’d first seen her—in a bandeau that covered her chest, paired with a long skirt that hung loosely on her hips, the only difference being that instead of ivory, her outfit was bright tangerine. The color contrasted spectacularly with her skin tone, bringing out the hazel in her eyes.

“Reyerjis,” Jareth said, his voice paradoxically lazy and aggressive, “Blood Priestess and High Counselor.”

Reyerjis laughed, the melodic sound lingered in the air for a few moments. “I haven’t been Blood Priestess for a long time, Goblin King.”

A flash of teeth. “Of course,” Jareth drawled.

 _“Greet her.”_ Jareth spoke directly in my mind, almost making me flinch.

“Reyerjis,” I said with a nod, “that color looks amazing on you.” It wouldn’t hurt to be nice to the scary lady.

Throwing me a curious glance, Reyerjis smiled delicately. She was shorter than I was, possibly one of the most petite individuals I’d seen in the Underground—yet there was something about her that made my stomach roil. “I see you have no Ifriti fire band today, Lady of the Labyrinth.” She tilted her queenly head, “I could steal you away.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

Smiling severely with a vicious twinkle in his eyes, Jareth spoke before I could reply, “My General is here tonight, Reyerjis. I suggest you refrain yourself from further threatening my Vessel.”

She laughed again. This time, the melodic sound of her laughter grated against my ears. “I have a feeling _your_ General will find himself preoccupied with Arbiter Horus well until tomorrow, Goblin King,” she said with a wink. “Even so, I shall not threaten your Vessel.” Saying that, she sifted out of our sights.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I turned to Jareth, who was staring at the vacant space that Reyerjis had occupied. “Jareth,” I said softly, my eyes widening as he turned his biting gaze onto me.

“We shall leave tomorrow, after the closing ceremony,” he said curtly, taking two glasses of sweet wine from an attendant.

“No thanks,” I said when he handed me a glass. I spoke quickly before he could argue, “I want to avoid having a killer hangover tomorrow morning, especially if I have to go through somnolence again.” And I wanted to be as clearheaded as possible as this was my last chance to properly study the Ageans and the Dark Court.

Satisfied with my answer, Jareth returned a glass to the attendant. “It looks as if Deimos is not attending tonight’s dinner,” he said, a small frown creasing his brows. “I would not have interrupted you and General Arges had I known Deimos would decide not to grace us with his presence.”

I wondered what was _up_ with Jareth—he clearly had an issue with Arges the night before. I could see it in his eyes as I egged him on. Back at King’s Castle, he _had_ said, “ _Sarah dearest, do take your pick of girlfriends, boyfriends, whatever else, as you say, when we get to court_.” I sighed—this was turning into a complicated mess.

“Speaking of dinner,” I said, keeping my voice cheery, “Where’s the food?” I recalled that there hadn’t been any buffet or tables laid out for dinner last night either. “Does no one eat in Agea?”

“The custom here is to revel with wine—dinner is only served at the end of the celebration.”

I raised my brows. “Wouldn’t everyone get wasted with so much alcohol and no food?”

“I believe that’s the point,” he mocked darkly, his arm slipping around my waist. “Were you thinking of leaving, _Sarah dearest_?”

My blood ran hot and cold at the same time, my skin tingling everywhere he touched. “I was, actually,” my voice wavered just a bit when I spoke. He was close enough that I could feel heat radiating from his body. Memories of the previous night flooded my mind.

A raised brow. “Without dancing with me even once?”

 _What the fuck_. I didn’t even know dancing with him was an option. Hell, I didn’t even know if I wanted to dance with him in the first place. “You really enjoy fucking with my head, don’t you?” I asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

Jareth laughed softly, his magic beginning to buzz against the skin of neck, sending tiny thrills of pleasure down my spine. “You make it so easy, _Sarah dearest_.”

“If you fucking call me _Sarah dearest_ again, I’m going to-” the threat died on my lips as I saw that a very entertained Princess Astre was now standing right beside Jareth, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

Jareth smiled amusedly. “You were saying?”

 _Ass_.

“Please don’t stop on my account. I’m sure Jareth deserves what you’re going to do to him,” the Frist Princess of Nastrondis spoke, her voice much like Iselin’s but harsher, perhaps a bit colder as well. “Lady of the Labyrinth, I’m pleased to finally meet you.”

_Alright Williams, keep calm and fake a smile._

I was able to do just that, without Jareth’s magic no less. “First Princess Astre,” I said with a nod, “Likewise.” _What the hell did I say next? Do you enjoy torturing humans with Jareth?_

Luckily, Jareth decided to be less taciturn and make some small talk. “Astre,” he said, his dual eyes glittering. “How are you finding Court this session?”

“Less entertaining as you seem to be too busy,” she said with a cool laugh, her gray eyes sparkling. “How do you find Court, Lady Sarah?”

“It’s interesting enough,” I said, my voice nonchalant, “I hung out with your cousin Iselin this afternoon—it was fun.”

“Ah yes, Iselin,” she said, a mocking tone to her voice, “She insisted on taking dinner at the aviary tonight—personally, I do not know how anyone can dine with so many birds around, but she seems to find it pleasant.”

 _Birds…I could talk about birds_. “So…are there many different species of birds in the Underground?”

Jareth smiled coldly, no doubt enjoying my discomfort. “Of course there are, Sarah,” he cut in, as if explaining things to a foolish child, “The human realm doesn’t have a monopoly on the number of bird species available.”

Astre laughed again, her gray eyes turning cold. “The Marble Palace has a beautiful aviary that showcases birds from all over the realm, even some very rare ones from the remotest of principalities of Visanyan and Ko.”

“How lovely,” I said with a smile. I had to get the hell out of there before I said something bitchy or punched Jareth in the face. Or both. Catching a flash of gold armor across the room, I sighed in relief as I spotted Amer. “If you would excuse me…Your… _Majesties_ , I must discuss something with General Amer,” I said, hoping I sounded sincere.

“You are excused,” Jareth said, dismissing me with a nod. Without missing a beat, he turned to Astre, “Would you care to walk with me, Princess?”

That was my cue to whirl around and make my way across the hall towards the General. I could feel my blood run hot with anger—there was a sharp feeling in my chest and I could hear a faint ringing in my ears. My heartrate had skyrocketed, and my limbs felt heavy. Dear lord, _what_ the _fuck_ was the matter with me? I was turning into some kind of emotional wreck. _Gear up Williams_ , I chided myself, _29-years-old and you’re acting like your crush walked away with the prom queen_.

The irony of the whole situation was that I did not even know what I wanted from Jareth—apart from the fact that I wanted to be set free from his fealty contract. Perhaps some friendship, or else it would be unbearable if we were stuck together as long as we lived, or _he_ lived, to be more precise. Clenching my fists, I took in a deep breath—never having been a sensitive person, I was lost as to how I could get these bubbling reactions under control.

Catching the General’s eye, I greeted him with a wide smile. “General Amer, I’ve never seen you wear this much gold at King’s Castle.”

Amer laughed, his booming voice echoing off the mosaicked walls of the hall. “You’ve uncovered my deep, underlying fetish for all things gold, Lady Sarah,” he said with a smile, holding out his arm.

Laughing as I linked my arm with his, I felt relieved as some of the tension left my body. We were getting out of here tomorrow—I could deal with my emotions later. “I currently have an underlying fetish for all things edible, let’s go find the _alleged_ dinner they’re supposed to serve tonight.”

Amer agreed with my sentiments, so we set off in search of food—unfortunately, we only found some miserable tapas sized snacks being served at the far end of the hall. I heaped olives and flatbread on my plate, glad the Ageans didn’t have tapas made of elk heart. General Amer heaped everything he could find.

A slim man with cocoa colored skin and azure eyes interrupted our makeshift dinner. “General Amer, it has been a while,” he said softly. His hair was cut close to his head, showing the outline of his perfectly curved skull. He’d have looked just as handsome bald.

Amer stood up and I followed suit. “Arbiter Horus,” he said, as if surprised to find him here, “It has been a while. Allow me to introduce Lady Sarah, Defeater of the Labyrinth—Lady Sarah, this is Arbiter Horus of the Inonian Isles.”

Ah—the man Reyerjis had been talking about—someone who’d keep Amer _preoccupied_ , she’d said. There was clearly some history here I did not know. “Arbiter Horus,” I said with a smile, “Pleasure meeting you.”

Horus smiled, dimples appearing on his slim face. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Sarah.” He turned towards Amer, “Perhaps you’ll seek me for a dance when you are free, Amer.” Bowing at us both, Horus walked away towards the center, where people had begun dancing.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was cock-blocking the General. “General Amer,” I stood up abruptly, “I insist you dance with Horus instead of babysitting me.” Holding up a hand to stop him from interrupting, I continued, “We’re all going back to that big empty castle so you may as well _socialize_ when you have the chance.”

Throwing his head back, Amer laughed. “Lady Sarah,” he said with a sigh, “The terms you use are always entertaining. But I shall not leave you unless I know you are comfortable.”

“I’ll find Jareth and ask him if I can leave early and get some sleep.” I shook my head adamantly as he looked reluctant. “I insist, General.”

After Amer left to find Horus in the crowd of dancers, I found myself walking towards the exit—I’d told Amer that I would look for Jareth, but I just could not bring myself to face the myriad of feelings he would evoke. Sometime after I exited the hall, I was left wandering the vast corridors of the Marble Palace, completely clueless as to where I was, let alone how I’d get back to my room.

Just as I was ready to tear my hair apart in frustration, the Goblin King’s icy voice echoed against the marble walls. “Sarah.” He sounded calm, _eerily_ calm.

 “Jareth,” I said coolly, turning around to face him.

“Did you not think it dangerous to wander the Marble Palace by yourself?” Advancing towards me slowly, he kept his face neutral and his voice deceptively light, but his magic rippled against my skin.

“Not _really_ , no.” I knew I was being an ass, but he didn’t have to be so damn intimidating. “I thought I’d head back to my room without…disturbing you.”

A cruel smile. “Pity.”

In a flash of a second, he’d captured my wrist with his hand and sifted us out of the corridor.

\--

Jareth did not let go of my wrist even after we sifted into my room.

“Could you let go, please?” I asked, fighting to keep the mounting panic out of my voice.

Jareth just looked at me for a few excruciating heartbeats, a terrifying expression in his eyes. “Is there anything you wish to ask me, Sarah?”

 _Yes_. “No.”

A raised, laconic brow. “Would you like me to confirm or negate any… _stories_ you may have heard?”

“Nope.”

“Are you certain that there is nothing you’d like me to,” he paused, eyes studying my reaction, “ _clear up_ for you?”

 _No_. “Yes.”

 “Really, _nothing_?” Jareth laughed deeply, eyes glittering with cruel amusement. “I never took you for a coward.”

That fucking did it. “I’m not sure I can _live_ with the answers, Jareth” I hissed. “It’s hard enough for me to live with the decisions I’ve made so far, _especially_ where you’re concerned. I don’t want any big revelations until I figure out how to get out of the contract you’ve trapped me into.” Perhaps it was stupid on my part to alert him on that, but in all likelihood, he already knew I was trying to get out of the fealty oath.

“My unfortunate heroine,” he smiled slowly, “You will _never_ escape me.” Jareth’s voice held a brittleness I’d never heard before. “I shall see you tomorrow morning.”

The Goblin King’s hollow laughter remained in my room long after he sifted out.

\--

_Adrenaline pumps through my system and my vision intensifies, as does my breathing. My evolutionary instincts scream at me to get away. I –must- get away._

_He laughs, a hard, hollow sound._

_“Sarah. My Sarah.” The deep timbre of his voice resonates against the stone walls. “Where are you, my Sarah?” His singsong voice is tinged with a longing so deep, my heart almost breaks._

_I run as fast as I can—not caring when the skin on my bare foot tears open as I step on a thorn. I must get away as far as I can._

_Laughter echoes around me as I hit a dead end._

_“No,” I whisper, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to end.” I look at myself—my dress is torn below the knees, which are scraped and bloody. A sleeve has been ripped off by some ivy thorns—a breast is exposed, my nipple peaking against the cold air. Shuddering as his footsteps get closer, my heart almost beats right out of my chest._

_I see his silhouette—leaning against the cool stone, head tilted. “Hello my_ dearest love _,” he laughs._

_I cannot move. Fear has paralyzed my every sense._

_I see him clearly now, the closer he advances, the clearer he becomes. His silvery hair reflects the moonlight and dark shadows line his harshly angled face. His lips twist into smile wrought with cruel amusement._

_“There’s no need to be afraid, my dearest,” he whispers, hands on either side of my face, he traps me against the wall. “I would never hurt you.”_

_He wouldn’t?_

_Would he?_

_Taking my scratched hand he places kiss on each finger. “Sarah, my Sarah,” he murmurs, “You taste delectable.” Just like that he turns my hand around and bites the delicate skin on the inside of my wrist—he bites hard enough until I bleed, deeply._

_Screaming as I smell the sweet coppery scent of blood, I try breaking free from his grasp, but he only laughs. He’s going to hurt me—of course he’s going to hurt me. How foolish was I to believe otherwise?_

_“You taste so sweet, my Sarah.” He easily holds my limbs so that I cannot kick him or scratch him with my free hand. “Shhhh,” he murmurs, pulling me against his body, my back against his chest. He kisses my temples and laughs when I almost gag when I smell my blood on his lips._

_A low hum surrounds my body and he trails his fingers on my bare skin, sending a wave of desire into my core. I feel weak now, I’m losing blood rapidly from my wrist. “Help me, Jareth,” I whisper as my vision turns blurry._

_A dark laugh. “Sarah, my sweet Sarah,” he croons, his fingers now caressing every inch of my skin—running along the contours of my neck, the valley between my breasts, the sharp edges of my hip bones._

_He runs his lips and teeth along my neck, nibbling, suckling until I cry out in pleasure. His fingers gently tease my exposed nipple before trailing down my front, lifting up the torn hem of my dress, and teasing the bundle of nerves between my legs. Every instinct in my body is telling me to run, but the pleasure I feel is inescapable. I cry out, pleading for release._

_“Your dark haired mortal sounds glorious.” She comes out of the shadows, as if she’s been there the whole time. Perhaps she has. “Sarah, sweet Sarah,” she mocks, mimicking him as she places her face inches from mine. “What shall we do with you?”_

_Something moves in her hands—twirls almost—I scream when I realize it’s a snake. “Help me, Jareth,” I say, feeling weaker by the second._

_But he only laughs. His hands continue my pleasurable torment._

_Looking into my eyes, she lets the snake slither onto me—I feel its slimy, reptilian skin against mine as it moves and wraps itself around my neck. She kisses him then, and he kisses her back, my blood smearing against her beautiful face._

_My vision deteriorates—I cannot breathe. “Jareth,” I gasp with every breath I can muster, “Help me. Please.”_

_But he only laughs._

_“Jareth,” I whisper one last time._

_This time, he looks at me, eyes widening with…fear? “Sarah,” he demands, “Sarah, are you alright?”_

_No, Jareth, I’m dying—you killed me._

_“Sarah,” his voice becomes louder._

_I see him clearly now, his lips aren’t smeared with my blood anymore, but I can still smell the coppery scent. Adrenaline pumped fear hits me full force and I scream, huddling away from him—as far as I can, but he comes after me._

_And then my fight instincts kick in._

_I scream. I bite. I claw him until my fingers bleed._

\--

I was awakened brusquely by an anguished scream. My vision was still groggy with sleep as I looked around my room, surprised to see Jareth standing at the foot of my bed.

“Sarah.” Jareth sounded shaken—something must have been deeply wrong as I had never heard Jareth sound afraid.

“Jareth?” I asked, my voice came out hoarse. “What happened?” I winced as the room flooded with light.

“Sarah, look at me,” he sounded nervous.

Shaking myself awake, I looked at him, only to gasp in shock. Jareth had bite marks and scratches all over his arms.

\--

 


	20. Fragility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning--there is significant violence in this chapter.

 

**\--**

_Shaking myself awake, I looked at him, only to gasp in shock. Jareth had bite marks and scratches all over his arms._

I stared at Jareth open mouthed, completely bewildered for a few moments, before the memory of the horrific dream crashed into me in sudden spurts. I could almost feel it—the Goblin King’s razor sharp teeth tearing into my skin and piercing my ulnar artery. The scaly skin of the snake as it slithered over my body and crushed my windpipe. I could see Jareth kissing the flaxen haired princes, smearing _my_ blood all over _her_ pretty face, while his fingers were still inside me. I could hear his laughter ringing in my ears while I bled to death.

My body’s natural reaction was to bolt across the room, getting as far away as I could from Jareth. It took every ounce of effort to stop myself from screaming in sheer terror. My eyes must have shown the horror as Jareth’s expression softened.

“It was a dream Sarah, nothing more.”

Closing my eyes, I took some deep Yoga breaths, trying to get my raging pulse under control. I knew, _rationally_ , that it was only a dream. But that didn’t stop my amygdala from sending frenzied signals to the rest of my brain.

“Did you…” my voice cracked as I looked into his unnerving eyes. “Did you send me _that_ dream?”

Jareth’s expression turned icy before settling into its aloof mask. “A dream in which I killed you?” He didn’t give me enough time to answer his rhetorical question, “No. I did not.”

I looked away, repressing a violent shudder as I recalled how his eyes had gleamed with malice as he cornered me.

“I heard you scream my name so I entered your room,” Jareth’s tone was unreadable. “You were…in _quite_ a state, Sarah. You said that you were dying. That _I_ killed you.” There was a mix of anger and disbelief in his voice.

“Not you alone,” I said, still unable to meet his gaze.

A deep sigh. “If you allow me to examine you, I can determine the source of your nightmare.”

I trembled, this time with fear and embarrassment; I did not want him to see any part of the dream. He would probably think I was obsessed with him…and the princess.

Sensing my hesitation, Jareth reassured, “Seeing the dream isn’t required—not to determine the kind of magic used to weave it. I would never look into your dreams without your _explicit_ permission, Sarah.” I could hear his boots click on the marble floor as he came towards me.

Forcing myself to stop from shivering as he sat on the bed beside me, I raised my eyes to meet his arresting gaze. I could see the cuts I had inflicted on him—there was a particularly angry one across a sharp cheekbone. “Did I do that?”

Jareth chuckled with genuine amusement laced with something akin to admiration. “Yes.”

I opened and shut my mouth, unable to think of anything to say. “You could have easily stopped me.”

An amused glance. “As I stated, you were in quite a state and I did not want to risk harming you.” With that, he leaned into me, close enough that his nose brushed mine. Close enough that I could see the amber ring around the green iris of his eye.

Shutting my eyes as I felt his cool fingers on my temples, I tried keeping my breathing calm as a very _different_ memory flashed into my mind. His teeth on my neck and on my breasts—teasing, lips suckling my heated skin. His hands forcefully holding my thighs in place while his mouth drove me wild. His tongue inside me, circling my clit and pressing against my entrance. Arousal dripping down my thigh.

Jesus. Perhaps I _was_ obsessed with him.

“ _Sarah_.” Jareth’s voice was as sharp as a whip.

My eyes jerked open and I knew tender Jareth was gone. Instead, he seemed furious—his dual eyes reflecting a blazing storm of fire and ice.

“Do you know who sent me the dream?” I asked—quite sure that he did. He _had_ to, going by his reaction.

“I have my theories which will need to be confirmed,” he replied harshly. “Rest now.”

Resting would mean I’d have to close my eyes—something I distinctly did _not_ want to do. I had never felt more vulnerable during my time in the Underground than at that moment, not even during the binding ceremony when I felt like I was being burned alive. “Jareth,” I murmured, looking up at him through my lashes, “I’m afraid of closing my eyes.”

A raised brow and a flicker of emotion. “Should you want it, I can grant you one of my dreams.”

I could hear the challenge in his voice—this was some kind of a test for him to determine whether I trusted him. I kept staring at him, unable to accept or decline his offer, until the silence became unbearable.

Jareth’s dark laughter reverberated around the quiet room. “ _Sarah dearest_ , I’ve given you carte blanche on anything you may wish to ask me. Yet you prefer cowering in my presence with your… _assumptions_.”

His words ignited a spark of anger that quelled some of the fear I felt. I started sitting up to an upright position when I felt his firm hand on my shoulders.

“Rest.” There was a commanding tone to Jareth’s voice. He looked at me determinedly, as if waiting to see whether I’d fight him. When I relented, he looked somewhat relieved. “I am, _rather generously_ , allowing you one more chance, Sarah—tell me what you wish to know.”

My heart thudded so loudly, I was sure he could hear it. “The woman who died,” I began, my voice shaky, “…was Amer referring to her when he said that _you_ should know disastrous the consequences of such fragility?”

Jareth raised his brows and smirked. “How easily you recall the General’s words, _Sarah dearest_. Amer was not referring to the mortal woman, he was referring to my mother,” his voice was devoid of any emotion. “While she was not human, she was _unable_ to adapt to my father’s world and his kingdom.”

I gaped—I hadn’t expected _that_ answer.

“Our numbers were declining well before the war, so my father, to use the appropriate term, _hunted_ a woman who could provide him with many children.”

“Hunted?” I asked, shivering at the thought as I recalled the warm eyed woman with long, cascading brown hair.

A slow smile. “Yes, hunted. She was one of the Realm Travelers—beings who lived on the edge of the Underground and the human realm. Most have died out since the portals were locked before the war.”

“That sounds so…” my voice trailed off.

“Brutal? _Barbaric_?” Jareth looked amused at my amassing horror. “It is a long and tragic story, _Sarah dearest_ , but she served her purpose and provided him with seven children.”

“But you don’t have any siblings,” I blurted, turning a bright shade of crimson immediately. Maybe he did, for all I knew.

A sharp smile. “As I was saying before your interruption, she provided him with seven children. Six of whom she fed to the heart of the Labyrinth the day they were born. _She_ was fragile of mind—you are not.”

My mouth was wide open in shock. The woman with the bright smile and gentle eyes—she fed six of her _own_ children to the heart of the Labyrinth. That meant Jareth…”You’re the seventh child?”

Jareth roared with laughter. “How terrified you look,” he said, assessing my reaction. “Indeed, I am the seventh child. The Silver Lady was able to stop her from… _feeding_ me to the Labyrinth, as she did the rest of her children. A lot of my blood has been, shall we say, _absorbed_ by the Labyrinth so we are tied together in an unbreakable bond.” His gaze was as piercing as a hawk’s as he studied my face. “As I said before, _Sarah dearest,_ this is not a fate I chose for myself.”

“I don’t know what to say…” I whispered. What _did_ you say after hearing a story like that? How had anyone not been able to save the rest of the children? Why hadn’t they intervened earlier?

“As for the Agean mortal,” he said, ignoring my statement. “Astre found her in some mortal village brothel and thought to amuse me because she looked like an adult version of you.”

I frowned. That made no sense. “How would she have known what I looked like?”

Jareth smiled a smile that would have been self-deprecating had it not been so severe. “I have a portrait of you in my personal gallery, _Defeater of the Labyrinth_.”

 _Oh_. That Jareth had a personal gallery, or any sort of gallery in King’s Castle was news to me. Barring a very few family portraits, the only display of art that I’d seen, if you could call it art, were armors and weapons showcased on the walls.

A thousand thoughts ran through my head—I wanted to ask _why_ Astre thought to find someone who looked like me, but I pushed that question to the back of my mind. A childish part of me wanted to know why he hadn’t shown _me_ his personal gallery. There were only so many questions he would answer and I had to choose my words wisely. “Did you…” I looked at him head on, “Did you have anything to do with the mortal’s death?”

Jareth’s unnerving eyes bore into mine for a few moments, his gaze unfaltering. “What do you think, _Sarah dearest_ —did I play a role in her death?”

The question was a trap. If I said no, I’d be lying, and he knew that. If I said yes, I’d be indicting him without receiving any solid proof.

A derisive laugh. “Cat got your tongue, _Sarah dearest_?”

My temper flaring, I took the bait, “If she was brought here for your _entertainment_ , then yes. At the very least, you played an indirect role in her death.”

“Then I suppose I did,” Jareth drawled amusedly. “Rest now, Sarah,” he said curtly before I had a chance to say anything else—indicating he was done dishing out information for the time being. He rose to leave.

“Jareth wait.”

A raised brow, “Yes?”

“I’ll…I would like one of your dreams.” There was no way I was going to risk getting another brutal nightmare, and I wanted him to think I trusted him.

Jareth looked at me for a few heartbeats, his eyes unreadable. “Very well,” he said so softly that I almost didn’t hear him. “Sleep.”

I dreamed of flying—soaring into the night sky, into a sea of pale, shining stars.

\--

I woke up in a few hours, feeling far well rested than I had in a long time. From my latticed window, I could see the warm Agean sun beginning to rise in the morning sky. Magicked sleep was certainly more refreshing than regular sleep.

Jareth’s dream had been _amazing_. I recalled the sparkling, ever changing colors of the night sky reflected against the snow covered land below. Was _that_ how he saw things? I’d never seen him transform into an owl, not since I’d been back anyway. If I was him, I’d keep myself transformed for a lot longer.

Feeling a sudden surge of energy, I quickly brushed my teeth and changed into my running shorts and tank top. It had been months since I had exercised outside—which wasn’t even possible in the Goblin Kingdom as the temperatures outside weren’t exactly human friendly. _This_ was the perfect opportunity.

Lacing up my running shoes, I stepped out into the private garden and opened the door that lead to the Marble Palace’s infamous private gardens. Acers and acers of manicured lawns with orange and lemon trees growing in small orchards and groves.

After dreaming of soaring across the sky, I was dying to just run, and run, until I hit the same, endorphin induced high that I’d felt in the dream _. Here goes_ , I thought, after stretching properly and revving myself a little.

Running was a strange exercise, you always felt tired during the first two miles and then you felt like you could run to the ends of the earth. _Ends of the Underground_ , I corrected. I started running slowly at first, making sure my limbs adjusted to the pace. _Then_ I tore across the ground as fast as I could. I ran until all my disruptive thoughts just seeped right out of my head. Until my mind was completely blank, and my muscles cramped and ached before hitting the endorphin high.

After an hour or so, I slowed down. Bending over slightly, I rested my hands on my knees, taking deep breaths—eyes narrowing as I saw a colossal gold structure some distance away. _Could this be the aviary that Astre had gushed about_ , I wondered, walking towards it.

\--

The gold, cage-like structure was magnificent as it was intricate—it had an industrial feel to it. There was a gate on the outermost bars, closed with a simple latch. As I entered the gate, I was awed by the sheer amount of color that greeted my eyes, there must have been a few hundred different types of birds. Astre hadn’t been lying when she said that the aviary was beautiful.

Surprisingly, the structure was open to the sky—which meant the birds weren’t even caged. They remained there because of their own free will. As I kept walking towards the center, I noticed that there was a second gate, and I opened it gasping as I saw the birds inside. They weren’t exactly birds per se, I didn’t know _what_ they were. The head was clearly reptilian with a sharp, beaklike snout—but the body was that of a large bird, with copper feathers. One of the creatures tilted its head, blinking its all-black eyes at me before disappearing further into the aviary.

I couldn’t help but walk further in, mouth open as I saw a glowing blue bird that was perched in one of the artfully arranged trees. I laughed as it chirped at me, it looked as if the birds were at ease with visitors. “Are you trapped, or are you here freely?” I asked—it was the same question I had been asking myself.

Was _I_ here freely?

I _had_ bitten the peach and accepted the Labyrinth’s contract. Unlike Jareth, I _had_ made a choice. And yet it hadn’t been an informed choice—so did that even count as a free choice? I shook my head…things were getting way too complicated.

“And so, we meet again.” A quietly familiar voice broke my train of thought and I turned around to find Calestos standing behind me, a friendly smile on his face.

Goosebumps broke across my skin and my heart thudded in my ears. I had to get out of here quickly or else I was _fucked_.

“Calestos…I didn’t take you for a bird enthusiast,” I said with as much confidence as I could gather. My mind raced with frenzied thoughts—could I shield myself with magic? I _had_ managed to fight back against Jareth during practice…maybe I could do the same now? I concentrated on imagining a shield around myself.

Calestos’s smile never left his face. He made no move to come further towards me. “I find you here without your personal security or the Ifriti fire band. Most unwise, Lady of the Labyrinth.”

Just a little more, I thought, concentrating with all my might. Practicing with my eyes open had come to good use, I thought wryly. I’d thank Jareth the first chance I got. Mimicking Calestos’s smile, I replied, “Don’t be ridiculous, Calestos. Of course I have security.”

A pleasant laugh. “I know the Goblin King sent Captain Liezse back to the Goblin Kingdom a little ahead of schedule, Lady Sarah.”

I had no idea who Captain Liezse even was. Or that there was someone called Captain Liezse in the first place—but I kept my expression neutral. “General Amer knows where I am.”

“The General is with Horus at the moment. From what I know of them, they will keep busy until the closing ceremony.”

With no warning, a slow burst of magic came toward me and I struggled to shield myself—simultaneously throwing back waves of magic at Calestos, just like I had done with Jareth during practice.

“Lady Sarah,” Calestos spoke my name slowly. “You fight impressively.” A much larger burst of magic crashed into me and I struggled to keep myself from falling onto my knees. “But you’re no match me.”

I felt a sharp stab of pain pierce my chest before losing consciousness.

\--

I woke up to find myself in a large, empty hall that was barely lit. Cool, hard marble dug into my back, and the air felt damp and heavy.

“You’ve awakened.”

Struggling to turn towards Calestos’s voice, I growled when I found I couldn’t move. The bastard had tied me up on some kind of altar…and I was naked, save for a thin sheet that covered my body. “You must have some kind of death wish, Calestos,” I said, happy that my voice came out strong. “The Goblin King will come for me.”

“Lady Sarah—only Ageans or mortals without magical blood can enter this space—it is a safeguard of sorts, against other magical beings. The Goblin King, a half breed Astar, most certainly _cannot_ come for you,” Calestos stated, a reproaching tone to his voice, as if he found me ignorant. “As for my so called death wish…should the Goblin King kill me, Lady Sarah, his actions will be taken as an act of war. Do you really believe that _you_ , even as the Vessel of the Labyrinth, hold any place in the Dark Court—that _your death_ will have the same repercussions as mine?”

 _My death?_ Jesus. He was going to kill me. “What the fuck do you want Calestos?” I asked, successfully keeping fear out of my voice. I tried conducting magic, but I was too weak.

He laughed. “You are angry,” he was closer now, almost whispering in my ear. I could see his lips from the corners of my eyes. “Good. Perhaps anger will keep you alive longer.”

I could hear clanging noises—like metal hitting metal. “I didn’t know you were into bondage, Calestos. You going to punish me for being a bad girl, is that it?”

“My _dear_ Lady Sarah,” I could hear a smile in his voice as he came near me. “You are in our sacred, below ground temple, this is not a place for punishment.”

He was placing something on the altar, next to me. I stretched my head as far as the bonds would allow to take a look. My eyes widened as I realized he was arranging various knives of all shapes and sizes—evaluating them and choosing them… _for what_?

“What do you want from me?” I asked, unable to hide the fear from my voice any longer. _What was he, some kind of serial killer?_ Looking at his classically handsome, non-threatening looks, he’d certainly fit the bill.

Calestos looked at me, hazy pleasure clouding his aquamarine eyes. “You are afraid.”

 _Fuck_. I’d taken enough criminal psych classes to know that serial killers derived great pleasure from making their victims react as per their liking. Fighting to keep my expression neutral, I swallowed the panic bubbling inside me. “What do you want?” I repeated.

Smiling as if he could see the wheels turning in my head, Calestos fiddled with a small dagger in his hand. “Right now, modest human, I would like to know what drives the Goblin King.”

I laughed harshly. “I have no clue. He’s made sure I know next to nothing about him—hell, you’ll probably know more about him because you’ve known him longer.”

He laughed his characteristic pleasant, friendly laugh. “I have seen him take more than a few lovers throughout the centuries, Lady Sarah—most of whom were women, but _none_ of whom were human. I have seen him toy with mortals and non-mortals alike—receiving pleasure from chaos and confusion. It… _excites_ him. Well, him and the Princess Astre.”

“Great. You _do_ know him more than I do.”

Holding a long, thin knife that resembled a surgical weapon, he smiled at me—still looking friendly. As if he was _not_ deciding which knife to use on me. “Reyerjis and Deimos are similar. Blood excites her and _she_ excites him.” He held a small, curved dagger in his other hand. “It can get tedious you know, being the third person in a room with _those_ two. I prefer to work in a quieter setting.”

 _Work_? “Tedious isn’t the word I’d use.”

He came closer towards me and leaned down—my heart beat furiously in my chest. “But today, Lady Sarah, they have been considerate enough to leave me alone. Well…the two of us alone.” He pulled the sheet that covered me so that half my body was exposed.

I felt the cold metal of the blade on my bare skin and couldn’t stop myself from flinching.

“ _I_ , on the other hand, am quite different Lady Sarah. I have no interest in touching you that way. Or fucking you—making you scream like the Goblin King did for the entire western wing to hear. What excites me is pain and fear. You _are_ afraid, aren’t you?” His tone was so mild, like he was talking to a friend—and that’s what made the whole thing even more terrifying.

I gritted my teeth as I felt the blade touch the skin below my breast. “Go fuck yourself.”

Soft laughter. “Your bravado is entertaining, but I can detect fear, Lady Sarah. You can say it is one of my… _unique_ talents.”

In a quick movement, Calestos took the curved blade and slashed my arm from elbow to shoulder—I could feel the knife dig into my skin coldly and slice it open—my blood felt hot as it gushed out of the open wound. An uncontrollable scream escaped my throat.

“ _Sarah_.” I jerked against my bonds as Jareth spoke into my mind, his voice faint.

“What a lovely sound you make,” Calestos said, sounding almost drugged. He leaned into me, looking into my eyes with a reverent expression. “Will the Labyrinth’s power pour out of you if I cut you open, Lady Sarah? Reyerjis believes it will.”

Without any warning, Calestos sliced my skin along the inside of my thigh—I couldn’t stop another rasping scream from tearing out of my throat.

“Relax, Lady Sarah, we have just begun.”

Leaning further into me, Calestos placed a tender kiss on my forehead, as if he were calming a child. “I am so very grateful to you, Lady of the Labyrinth.”

_Was he fucking serious?_

Frowning, as if he detected something wrong, Calestos pulled back suddenly. “Your dreams were corrupted last night,” he said, surprised.

“I can’t say your nightmares aren’t entertaining, Calestos,” I retorted.

“The Goblin King has placed ample wards within you, Lady Sarah, especially against my power. I did not weave your dream last night,” he said softly, his eyes glowing with curiosity. “However, I am interested to find out just who sent you such a fear inducing nightmare.” Saying that he placed his fingers on my forehead, just like Jareth had done, and he closed his eyes.

“Get the fuck out of my head,” I said through gritted teeth.

Paying me no attention, Calestos continued, his face becoming more delighted by the second. “It looks as if the Goblin King is facing internal strife.” Opening his eyes, he looked at me questioningly. “Are _you_ not curious, Lady Sarah?”

It wasn’t him, _that_ I was sure of now. But who else could it have been— _Astre_? Something must have shown on my face as Calestos laughed heartily.

“Lady Sarah,” he said, his voice almost compassionate. “How unfortunate for you to have become so entangled in our world. What I am about to do to you…is not a fate you deserve.” He trailed the blade of the knife over every inch of my exposed skin.

 “Shut up,” I said, shaking uncontrollably against my bonds. “You sound like a second rate Bond villain blabbering on about his stupid plans.” I laughed, a hysterical edge to my voice. “Or Doctor Evil.” I tried summoning magic again, growling in frustration when I couldn’t. Instead, I could feel a vibrant power pulsing just below the surface of my skin—unfortunately, I couldn’t use it.

Calestos looked slightly startled for a few moments, as he studied my reaction. “I can feel it,” he said excitedly, sensing the power beneath the surface. “Relax, Lady Sarah…relax and let go.” Tilting his head—his eyes still boring into mine—he ran the long thin knife along slide my arm before slicing into the skin of my abdomen.

I screamed. Within a few seconds, the darkness took over me and I lost consciousness.

I could have sworn, just as the blackness took over, that I heard his voice call my name.

“ _Sarah_.”

\--

Calestos left me tied and bloodied for a long time—for all I knew it could have been a few hours or perhaps even more. My blood had dried out creating an acrid, metallic smell that filled my senses when I came into consciousness. My muscles were stiff and my limbs heavy due to the lack of blood flow. My mouth was dry and my throat felt raw—breathing was painful.

I could hear Jareth’s voice in my mind—calling my name, sounding more desperate by the second. It suddenly occurred to me that Jareth would be significantly weakened by my death. A hysteric laugh gurgled up my throat— _how ironic_. Perhaps he’d be sorry that he bound us together.

“You find your current predicament entertaining.” Calestos walked over to me from wherever he had been, he held a knife that resembled a small saw in his hands.

I grinned at the sick bastard, baring my teeth savagely. “You have no idea.”

Calestos smiled. “I know a few details regarding human anatomy, Lady Sarah,” he said, his voice particularly sadistic. “For example,” he ran the saw against my upper mid-section, “this is the stomach.”

“Great,” I said sarcastically, “you’ve taken anatomy 101.”

Once again, he paid me no attention. “This,” the blade lingered on my upper, right midsection. “Is the liver.”

“You should take the MCATs and apply to a good med school,” I said snidely, laughing at my own joke until I felt the knife break my skin, somewhere between the liver and the stomach. I closed my eyes—I could feel my mind screaming even though my throat wouldn’t make a sound.

“That is the space between your liver and your stomach, Lady Sarah,” Calestos said amusedly. “Fortunately for you, I’ve only cut the space between the two organs.”

I blacked out again—my body unable to take any more abuse and my mind completely numb. _Jareth_ , I thought right before the blackness took over me, _find me_.

\--

_-Interlude-_

“You say she has absorbed a full measure of the Labyrinth’s magic but you have not allowed her access?” Disapproval clearly laced the Demi General’s voice.

“As part mortal, General Arges,” the Goblin King’s voice held a slight tremor, “You are well aware that strong, concentrated magic can easily burn through a mortal’s body. I cannot allow her access until she has more control.”

“It would have helped keep her alive.” The Demi General was surprised when the Goblin King winced.

“She is alive.”

The General decided to push the King a little further. “For now.”

The Goblin King hissed, “We require your assistance in scouring through the below ground temples, General Arges—do we have it?”

“Lady Sarah does.”

_-End Interlude-_

\--

I awoke with a violent start as a bucket of ice cold water was thrown onto my body. Instinctively, I tilted my head and tried ingesting as much water as I could—Calestos hadn’t given me any water and I was very badly dehydrated.

I could hear Calestos’s footsteps move closer towards me. “Unfortunately, Lady Sarah, our time together has come to an end,” he said with a melancholic lilt in his voice. “Your Goblin King has enlisted our Demi General’s help, and that means…”

“That you only have so much time to draw out the Labyrinth’s power,” I rasped—my voice weak. My throat was so dry that speaking hurt.

“Exactly.” His hands played with my hair as he stared deeply into my eyes, looking almost apologetic. “We had not foreseen this particular obstacle—General Arges has never regarded the Goblin King with respect…for which he has his reasons. So why would he agree to help?”

“Because I’m such a delightful person,” I quipped.

Calestos smiled his friendly smile. “That you are, aren’t you?”

 _‘I don’t know, you tell me_ ,’ I wanted to say—but the pain caused by speaking was too much to bear at this point.

“The Astars believe that magic is centered at the heart, Lady Sarah,” Calestos murmured, trailing the long thin knife along my sternum, slicing my skin lightly to draw a thin trail of blood.

I could feel the Labyrinth’s vibrant magic bubble underneath my skin.

“I can feel it,” Calestos’s voice held frenzied excitement. “Good bye, Lady Sarah.”

\--

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q and A based on some interesting questions I received. 
> 
> Q—why is Sarah a vegetarian? How does she get enough nutrition? (etc.)  
> A—I thought I’d contrast her with Jareth as much as possible. Personally, I’m a red-meat-eating, try-anything-once kinda person (including internal organs, various blood puddings, what have you) so…I hope I’ve been able to write a vegetarian believably. Believably enough anyway. I thought I gave her a balanced diet of sorts (vegetarians, feel free to weigh in).
> 
> Q—(this one made me lol) Why doesn’t Sarah have a giant bush down south?  
> A—Sarah’s made good use of groupon and gotten 10 sessions of laser hair removal so that she only has very little, peach fuzz down south. And she never needs to shave her legs or underarms.   
> I don’t know—most Sarahs seem to have ‘dark, wet curls’ in between their legs (always makes me think OMG, Sarah has a 70s bush down there). This one’s smooth and lasered.


	21. A Consuming Obsession

 

**\--**

I recovered fairly quickly for having faced such an ordeal—I had awoken to find myself in the healing room with no scars on my body. Eires had kept me under observation for a few days, but had cut my visits short once she realized I had healed exceptionally well.

Although I had healed physically, there were times in the night when I woke up, my heart beating frantically against my ribs, ready to burst open. I could hear Calestos’s mild voice in my mind, and I could feel his blades as they tore open my skin. It occurred to me that perhaps I hadn’t dealt with what I had experienced—and that pushing the feelings of powerlessness into a corner would most likely backfire in the future, but letting those feelings bubble to the surface would probably drive me insane. I had become too numb, and perhaps _that_ was for the best.

Jareth must have given Daemora instructions to keep me as busy as possible because she goaded me into jumping back into training right away. She also roped me into helping her plan the Goblin Feast, which was to take place in five weeks. The poor girl was practically frothing with excitement—I suppose she was tired of the isolation of being in King’s Castle.

I hadn’t seen Jareth for the last few weeks, so I had been quite surprised to see him at dinner tonight. As usual, with other people around, he had been the epitome of courtly politeness, keeping his conversation light. However, it _was_ highly entertaining to see Daemora harass him about the Goblin Feast—he’d wearily given the silver haired princess free reign to do what she pleased…as long as _I_ thought it was alright. Which, of course, meant she had free reign to harass _me_ instead of him. _Sneaky, manipulative ass_.

“Defeater, pay attention.”

Jerking myself out of my thoughts, I glared good-naturedly at the small, silver limbed seamstress, Renya, who glared right back at me. Hosting the Goblin Feast meant that I had to get a whole new set of clothes—and _that_ meant visiting Renya’s workshop every night after dinner, and going over various fabrics and designs. _Fun_. “I have no idea Renya, just go with anything light and comfortable.”

Murmuring darkly to herself, the seamstress held up a yard of gauzy jade fabric against my skin and peered at my reflection on the mirror. “This color is absolutely perfect.” I didn’t reply as she seemed to be talking to herself. “Perhaps a shade lighter,” she murmured, and just like that, the garment paled—turning a shade of jade that was significantly lighter than my eyes.

“Are we going to take as long deciding the fabric for the rest of the outfits?” I asked, my voice coming out dead tired. Today’s practice session had been particularly grueling and I sure as hell wasn’t keen on spending hours on end in Renya’s workshop.

The tiny, silver limbed seamstress gave me a look that said ‘be quiet, young lady.’ “Yes,” she scolded. “The King has demanded perfection, and I _will_ deliver perfection.”

I rolled my eyes when she mentioned ‘the King’ with such a reverent tone. “Then you should spend hours on end getting _him_ to pose for you,” I grumbled. The man seemed to have an unending amount of clothes—I’d never seen him wear the same outfit twice, save for his official armor.

“Concerned about my wardrobe choices, Sarah?” Jareth’s crisp voice resonated around the chamber and I saw his amused smile reflected on Renya’s massive mirror.

_Speak of the devil and he shall appear._

“Your Majesty,” Renya said with a deep bow—I followed suit. “All of your outfits have been sent to your chambers, I hope they are to your liking.”

I could hear his boots click against the stone floor as he made his way towards us. “Perfection as always, Renya, but I am afraid I will have to take the lovely Sarah away at the moment.” He stalked towards me, holding my gaze on the mirror with his unnerving eyes.

Renya gave me a pointed look. “I will expect you back here tomorrow, Defeater.”

Sighing, I nodded. “Anything you say, Renya.”

“Would you?” Jareth asked, holding out his hand.

After a moment’s hesitation, I took his hand, barely wincing as the icy wind tore into me.

\--

We sifted into the atrium. I hadn’t been here after returning from Agea—the open night sky decorated with pale stars was a mesmerizing sight to behold.

“Take a seat, Sarah.”

Startled, I turned to see that Jareth was already seated on one of the arm chairs by the fire, legs stretched out languidly on the ottoman. His dual eyes held my gaze as I just stood there, totally mute. I wondered why he was suddenly interested in spending time with me after leaving me alone for the last few weeks, with no word as to his whereabouts. Innumerable emotions swirled in my chest, threatening to unravel me.

_Had he cared at all? Had he checked on my recovery?_

“ _Sarah_.” I could hear the underlying command, ‘don’t defy me.’ Had anything changed…or did he think of me as the same, naïve 15-year-old he encountered during my first visit?  

 _I can do this_ , I told myself, clenching my hands into fists as I walked towards him and took a seat. “What do you want?” I asked determinedly, happy that my voice came out stronger than I felt.

A full throated laugh. “I wanted to make sure that you were well.” Although his tone was mild, his eyes scrutinized my face with dark intensity. His silver gold hair reflected the orange flame of the roaring fire and shadows danced across his face.

“I am fine,” I said with a shrug. “As fine as I can be, I guess.” I looked away and gazed at the fire, ignoring the small voice in my head that was screaming the opposite. I was _not_ fine at all.

I could see Jareth frown from the corners of my eyes. “I made sure he suffered, Sarah,” his voice was soft. “I only wish he would have suffered more.”

I couldn’t help but let out a short, harsh laugh at that. I turned sharply to look at Jareth—“That will not change what happened to me, Jareth,” I countered, my voice coming out cold. I felt a surge of satisfaction as his eyes flickered with raw emotion. Could it be that the mighty Goblin King felt guilty?

“No, precious, I suppose not,” Jareth conceded, conjuring up two glasses of wine and handing me a glass. “Regardless, I need to know that you are well, Sarah.”

Taking a sip of the wine, I shot him an incredulous look. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks, Jareth,” I said, my voice getting louder with every word. “I woke up in the healing chambers with no one around to tell me what the fuck happened. Weeks later, you show up acting all concerned. I know Amer had to stay behind in Agea, but I also know that _you_ did not. I would really, _really_ appreciate it if you stopped acting like I matter to you, _so much_.”

Jareth sat up, his icy eyes boring into mine. “I had certain arrangements to make, Sarah.”

 _Of course he did_. “What do you want Jareth?” I asked with a snort. “I’ve known you long enough to realize that you generally corner me like this when you want something from me. What is it?”

A slow, cruel smile. “Clever girl,” he said slowly, looking into the fire—as if he didn’t want me reading his face. “I am afraid that the Labyrinth’s magic within you will need to be replenished. We shall visit the Clearing in a few nights, when the moon is full.”

Trembling with sudden fear, I gaped at him. _How much abuse was my body supposed to take?_ “Is it going to be like the binding ceremony?”

Jareth’s gaze turned sharp. “No,” he said intensely. I must have looked visibly relieved as Jareth ran his fingers through my hair in a soothing motion. “I will be there with you, Sarah.”

The tenderness in his voice made my heart spasm almost painfully—emotions that I’d kept bottled up inside threatened to swim to the surface. I looked up at him, wide eyed. “Will I be… _hurt_ like the last time?” I gagged—suddenly recalling the smell of burning flesh, _my_ flesh, and blood.

“I will be with you, Sarah, I shall control and direct the magic so you will not be harmed.” There was a flicker of pain in his eyes.

Taking a sip of wine, I wondered what to make of Jareth’s reactions. He _was_ guilty—maybe even guilty enough that I could actually use it to my advantage. At the same time, I knew I had to keep my behavior subtle. “Jareth,” I said, staring at him—making sure I looked as vulnerable as possible. “Calestos said he didn’t send me the nightmare…do _you_ know who sent it?”

Jareth gave me a calculating glance, his face returning to its usual mask. “I would rather not tell you, Sarah. But know this, whoever sent you the dream is not a threat. I have made sure of it.”

 _Not so fast, Goblin King_ —I wasn’t going to let this up easy. “Calestos said the Goblin King was facing internal strife. What did he mean, Jareth?”

A raised brow. “He said exactly that?”

“Right after he sliced the inside of my thigh.” I grinned as Jareth narrowed his eyes. Yep, he felt guilty alright.

“There is a debate going on in the Silver Court, _my_ court, regarding…shall we say…your duties.”

I raised my brows, not having expected that answer. “Does that mean one of _your_ people sent me the nightmare?”

Jareth kept his gaze steady. “One of my people, yes.”

I was floored—it was bad enough I was getting skewered by Deimos and company, but I had assumed that I would be safe within Jareth’s kingdom. “What is the debate?”

Eyes narrowing further as he saw me tremble, Jareth hesitated for a few moments.

“Jareth, what is the debate?” I asked again, my voice shaky.

“There are complex magic rituals that I cannot explain in detail, Sarah,” he said slowly, eyes intent on mine. “In simplest terms, running magic _through_ you may …strengthen the Labyrinth and, alternatively, the rest of the kingdom.”

 _Jesus_. The emotions threatening to spill out on the surface suddenly went quiet and I felt cold. _I wasn’t safe in Jareth’s kingdom_ , I thought with a laugh, _I wasn’t safe anywhere in this world_.

“Sarah?”

I looked at him blankly. “Ask me that question again, Jareth.”

“What question is that?”

“Whether I would accept the Labyrinth’s contract if I knew _exactly_ what it entailed.”

Jareth looked at me for a few heartbeats, a concerned expression crossing his face, before deciding to humor me. “Would you?”

I smiled. “Never.”

“Oh _Sarah_ ,” there was a touch of sadness in his voice. “What’s said is said.”

I felt the coldness seep from my heart to the rest of my body. Looking at him, my face impassive, I shrugged. “Do what you like Jareth. I am _yours_ , as you’ve reminded me so many times, so _use_ me as you wish. Run magic through me.”

A flash of emotion. “That is not how I view you, _Sarah dearest_ , you should have realized that by now.” Jareth sounded angry, _extremely_ angry.

“Well, guess what? I don’t _believe_ you, Jareth,” I snapped, standing up abruptly, his anger working to fuel mine. “Maybe it isn’t how you _want_ to view me, but your actions tell me otherwise. You’re so goddamn secretive, I don’t know a _single_ thing about you. I didn’t even know you had a fucking personal gallery, Jareth, let alone that there’s a picture of me there.” _Dear God, why had I brought up the stupid gallery_? He’d kept a ton other things from me and I had to bring up the one thing that didn’t make too much of a difference.

Jareth laughed a short, self-deprecating laugh. “It’s not exactly a gallery, _Sarah dearest_. And I am surprised _that_ is what bothers you the most.”

I felt like screaming. There were a million other things that bothered me, but mentioning them was useless. “That’s not the fucking point, Jareth, and you know it,” I said, breathing heavily as I whirled around and made my way to the door.

“ _Sarah_.”

“I need to leave, please,” I whispered, wincing as my voice cracked. The sudden bout of anger had melted away any remaining icy numbness that I felt—and I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions that I had repressed ever since I got to this godforsaken place. I had managed _not_ to fall to pieces during Calestos’s torture session. Yet, speaking to Jareth made me want to get under the covers and give in to the tears that prickled my eyes.

 _Keep yourself together, Williams_ , I yelled at myself internally. I would _not_ breakdown. I made it near the door before I felt Jareth’s hands on my shoulders, his grip surprisingly gentle.

“Sarah,” his voice came out deeper than usual. “Stop.”

I swallowed before turning around. “What?”

His fingers caught my chin and slowly lifted my face so I was looking directly into his eyes. “Don’t run from me.” Jareth’s customary mask faded from his face, leaving behind a look of alarm and sympathy.

And _that’s_ what threw me off guard completely—I simply could not hold back any longer and a single tear rolled down my cheek. I pinched the inside of my upper arm, trying to gain a semblance of control. _Don’t become a sobbing mess of a Victorian hysteric Williams_ , my inner voice screamed, _don’t let him see you so weak_.

Jareth’s gaze darkened as he followed the tear’s descent with his eyes. And _then_ he suddenly enveloped me in his arms, our height difference making it so that my face was crushed against his chest. One leather clad hand caressed the back of my neck, and another encircled my waist, drawing me closer, resting his chin on my head. “Perhaps I push you too hard,” he murmured into my hair, his hand settling on my lower back.

 _Breathe, just breathe slowly_. Using the slow rhythm of Jareth’s beating heart to regulate my own breathing, I blinked back any remaining tears. I could smell his scent of leather and pinecones, and feel his body heat through his silk shirt.

“You can let go of me, Jareth, I’m fine,” I mumbled into his chest, a slow blush spreading across my face. Unfortunately, just as I tried pulling away, my emotional damn broke wide open and I couldn’t help a muffled sob from escaping my lips.

I stiffened, feeling Jareth’s leather clad hands hold either side of my face, angling it so he was looking directly into my eyes, his thumbs caressing my lower lip—pulling it down. “Sarah,” he murmured, his breath warm against my lips, before pressing his mouth against mine in a gentle kiss.

My lips parted automatically as I opened up to his kiss, moaning into his mouth as his tongue caressed mine languidly. His fingers trailed down my hair, entangling into my thick strands and tilting my face ever so slightly, allowing him further into my mouth. One of his hands encircled my waist, pulling me closer until my body slid against his.

The kiss that had started out gentle, grew hot and consuming as his lips pressed into mine, _hard_. His tongue explored my mouth in deep, slow thrusts—his hands roamed my body, thumbs caressing the undersides of my breasts through the thick material of my cable knit sweater. My breasts grew heavy and my nipples peaked, scratching against the fabric of my bra as he pulled my body flush against his.

“Jareth,” I whimpered, eyes closed—he nipped my jaw before placing kiss below my earlobe, making me shiver. His hands were under my sweater now, lightly tracing the contours of my back, inching ever so close to my breasts.

Breaking the kiss, he molded my body to his in a strong embrace—I felt the icy wind surround us and sift us out of the atrium.

\--

We sifted outside a door I had never seen before—a vaulted chrome door that was situated in a windowless corridor lit by torchlight. I looked up at Jareth, surprised—I had half expected him to sift us to his chambers so we could finish what we’d started. “Where are we?”

Jareth looked relieved that my emotional turmoil had passed. Tilting his head, he smiled at me mockingly. “This is my _so called_ personal gallery, _Sarah dearest_ ,” he said, the complicated vault stirred as he spoke, the heavy metal door opened with a loud clang. “Won’t you come in?”

I bit my lip before following him inside a small room that was completely dark. A slow trickle of unease slithered down my spine. “There’s no point in having a gallery if you can’t see its contents, Jareth.” My voice came out strong, but my heart started thudding in my chest as the damp air reminded me of the place where Calestos had taken me.

A short laugh. “Right you are, Sarah,” came Jareth’s amused reply and the room suddenly flooded with light.

I gaped, my lips parting in shock as I took in my surroundings. Jareth had been correct—this wasn’t exactly a personal gallery, it was a shrine. The small room, small in comparison to the other rooms at King’s Castle, must have had about a few dozen paintings hanging from its walls. And _I,_ my fifteen-year-old self more accurately, was the subject of every _single_ one.

Each painting depicted a particular scene from my journey through the Labyrinth. Some of the paintings looked like they were torn apart, savaged even, while others hung in pristine condition. There was one particular painting that had been _completely_ brutalized—one with me in a hideously puffed up, marshmallow gown and a glaringly tacky hairstyle. I walked towards the wall, where the painting hung in tatters, my fingers tracing the ripped canvas. “Looks like I had quite an effect on you,” I said softly.

“I was not lying when I said I was drawn to you, _Sarah_.” Jareth sounded bitterly amused. “That I _am_ drawn to you—that I cannot control myself around you.” His tone was derisive, but it was laced with an emotion so intense that it bordered on violence.

Keeping my eyes glued to the torn painting, I held up some of the pieces—able to make out my wide, jade eyes. “That makes the two of us, I guess.” I was slowly beginning to realize that I had more control over Jareth than I had originally thought. As dangerous as he was, as _unpredictable_ as he was, I did have a hold on him that I could not explain. I simply hadn’t maneuvered it well enough.

I walked over to the far wall, where another painting hung in tatters—this one depicting me in a room full of stairs. Holding up some of the pieces, I noticed that _this_ painting also depicted my wide eyes as they stared into the distance, probably at him. I closed my eyes, trying to remember what he had sung to me all those years ago—he’d said my eyes were cruel. “How you turn my world…” I whispered.

And just like that, Jareth’s arms enveloped me from behind, pulling me tightly against him—my back flat against his chest. A low snarl escaped his throat as he lowered his lips to my ear. “Do not say those words,” his normally silky voice came out rough, his breath hot against my ear.

Feeling a surge of power at his lack of calm, I pressed myself against him tighter—satisfied as I heard him groan in response. “Why not?” I asked, my breath hitching as I felt him whirl me around roughly, his hands gripping my shoulders hard enough to bruise.

Jareth’s dual eyes blazed with lust and something else. “What do you think I mean when I say I cannot control myself around you, _Sarah dearest_?” Jareth backed me against the wall, his hands effectively trapping my body.

I decided to find out—keeping my eyes as wide as I could, I parted my lips—trying to mimic the same image in the painting with the marshmallow dress. “I don’t know, Jareth.”

With a sharp breath, he lowered his lips, hovering just above mine. “I mean that I wish to _consume_ you, Sarah—I want to possess your body, your very being,” he looked at me, his gaze severe. His hands gripped my hips, before sliding down to hold the backs of my thighs—pulling my legs apart. “I want to hold you up against the wall and fuck you until you are utterly spent.”

A flood of desire rushed into my core and my center pulsed with need. Had he not held my thighs apart, I would have rubbed my legs together. “Then why don’t you?”

Burying his face into my neck, Jareth growled. “Because I cannot stop myself, _Sarah dearest_ ,” he hissed. “I fear my desire will consume _you_ …entirely.”

 _I fear my desire will consume you, entirely…_ what did that mean?

“I’d rather be consumed by you than Deimos or the Silver Court,” I joked weakly, letting out a startled yelp when I felt Jareth’s teeth bite down on the sensitive skin of my throat.

“Sarah,” Jareth whispered against my skin, kissing the bite he had inflicted. “You must mind your words around me—say only what you mean.” It was a warning—be ready to face the consequences of your actions.

I almost hummed with victory—the Goblin King had pretty much admitted that he could lose himself in me—not once, but for eternity. He was afraid of the intensity of _whatever_ it was that he felt for me.

Peering into his eyes, I tried reading his face. “I recall telling you once, Jareth, that, I wanted to be defiled— _by you_. Perhaps I wish to be consumed by you as well.”

Jareth barked a harsh laugh. “Do you? My _precious_ Sarah, you’ve learned your strategic skills quite well.” Saying that, he sifted us out of the morbid gallery and into my room.

\--

I was surprised yet again—this time, I had _definitely_ expected him to sift us to his room. _Fucking tease._

“Calling it a night then?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

A slow smirk. “Sleep well, Sarah dearest. You will require sufficient rest for your training tomorrow.”  

 _What?_ “Please don’t tell me it’s another session with _you_ ,” I said—his sessions, as useful as they were, left me feeling utterly beaten.

Jareth’s smirk widened into a full-fledged, sharp-toothed grin. “Not I,” his eyes gleamed with cold humor. “The esteemed General has a session with you tomorrow—and as I’ve said before, there have been times where he has left _me_ battered.” That was all he said before sifting out of my room.

Staring at the space Jareth had occupied before he conveniently sifted out of my room, I wondered what to make of his gallery or his words.

_-“I was not lying when I said I was drawn to you, Sarah.”_

_-“I mean that I wish to consume you, Sarah—I want to possess your body and your very being.”_

_-“That I am drawn to you—that I cannot control myself around you.”_

My body grew hot as wetness pooled into my core as I recalled the intensity of his gaze—the force with which he’d spread my legs apart. While we had only had sex a grand total of twice, he had always been so calm and controlled—I wondered what it would feel like if he’d lost control.

_-“I want to hold you up against the wall and fuck you until you are utterly spent.”_

Ugh. _Fucking tease_ , I cursed him again, knowing I’d have to take a cold bath before heading to bed.

\--

Jareth and Amer were already at the Great Hall for breakfast by the time I got there—I could hear them speak in low tones. By the sound of it, they were sharing some kind of inside joke. Or, at least, Amer was.

“Complications, my King. I distinctly remember telling you to _avoid_ them.” His booming laughter filled the hall as I nervously made my way inside.

“ _Laugh_ ,” came Jareth’s icy reply. “We shall see how you deal with Kieran and Ebara at the Goblin Feast.”

Amer did not miss a beat. “A damn sight better than how you dealt with-”

I coughed, interrupting Amer—alerting them of my presence. I wasn’t exactly sure I wanted to hear what he was going to say next. “Good morning.”

Jareth gave me a curt nod. “Good morning, Sarah.”

“Lady Sarah,” the General said with a bow, the humorous twinkle in his eyes remained. “The King and I were just speaking of you.”

I raised my brows, taking my seat. “Were you?”

Jareth frowned. “That is an interesting ensemble, Sarah,” he said, his tone clipped—it didn’t escape me that he changed the subject.

Looking down at my outfit, I shrugged—I’d given Renya some designs for simple woolen tunic and leggings sets, specifically for practice sessions. While she had tried her best, the outfits looked more than a little strange. “I needed something in which I wouldn’t freeze to death,” I replied—the temperature had dropped even further, and I wondered just how much colder this place could get.

“I may order a similar ensemble, Lady Sarah,” Amer said with a laugh. “Soon, the cold will seep into my very bones.”

Jareth’s lips curled with amusement. “Come now, General. You have spent enough time here be used to our temperatures.”

Amer shot me a wry look. “One would think.”

Laughing at Jareth’s annoyed look, I decided to maneuver the conversation to the previous topic—one Jareth thought to avoid. “I _am_ curious though, General,” I said, appealing to Amer instead of Jareth. “What _were_ you saying about me?”

Flashing me a warm smile, he replied, “that General Arges sends you his regards and hopes that you are fully recovered.”

 _Oh_. “I haven’t had the chance to thank him for saving my life,” I murmured, suddenly embarrassed. If he hadn’t healed me, I would have died—he’d risked his own life to save mine. Yet, I hadn’t so much as thanked him; in fact, I hadn’t even thought of him until now. That thought alone made me cringe— _what kind of person was I turning into_? Unfortunately, I knew the answer, and I didn’t like it.

Amer placed his hand on mine, his amber eyes sympathetic. “The General knows how grateful you are—how grateful _we all_ are, that he could rescue you.”

I sighed. “Still, he deserves-”

Jareth rose from his seated position, interrupting me mid-sentence. “General Arges will be here for the Goblin Feast, you may thank him then,” he said, his deep voice as expressionless as his eyes. He turned to face Amer, “The Silver Court is in session today onwards—I trust you will take care of all the matters we discussed previously.”

I frowned. _That explained why he was wearing his official armor._

“Of course, Your Highness,” the General said, standing up and bowing.

“Sarah,” Jareth said, giving me a sharp look. “I will see you after dinner at the atrium.” He sifted out of the Great Hall before I could reply—indicating that it wasn’t a request but a demand.

“Shall we, Lady Sarah?” The General held out his hand in anticipation. “We have much to cover in today’s lesson.”

Fire blazed around us as we sifted to the practice room.

\--

“Your biggest weakness, Lady Sarah, is your inability to deflect harmful magic,” General Amer said, standing at the far end of the practice hall. “Especially fire and ligt.”

I winced—“I seem to automatically absorb both instead of deflecting them.”

The General smiled grimly. “I would suggest you try your best to sieve first, Lady Sarah—once you master fire and ligt, the King will grant you access to the Labyrinth’s power. And _that_ will prevent any further attacks on your person.”

Refraining the urge to roll my eyes, I looked at him steadily—there was no way Jareth would so easily give me access to the Labyrinth’s power. “I know I should sieve and _then_ absorb or deflect, depending on the magic involved, but I…panic.” And then I’d end up absorbing everything and deep frying myself KFC style.

Amer’s smile turned encouraging. “ _That_ is why we will practice,” he said, his amber eyes warm. “I will start with the fire element—remember, fan the flames and absorb the heat.”

Clenching my fists, I braced myself for the fire storm. He made it sound so damn easy, but I knew I’d be fried by the end of it.

\--

Jareth hadn’t been lying about feeling battered by Amer. By the time we were done with the practice session, half my clothes were charred, leaving my _interesting ensemble_ , to use Jareth’s words, in pieces. I sustained a few second degree burns on my skin which had to be healed—but I _had_ managed to sieve, absorb, and deflect the fire element.

“Excellent work, Lady Sarah,” the General said with a wide grin. “We will increase the intensity next session.”

I groaned, running my fingers across a nasty burn on my shoulder. “I better ask Renya for some inflammable clothing then.”

Amer’s eyes widened with concern as he looked at the number of burns on my body. “Allow me to sift you to the healing chambers, Lady Sarah. You should have alerted me that you were injured.”

Shaking my head, I smiled at him. “I needed you to be tough with me, General. I can’t afford _not_ to master fire and ligt.” I took his hand, “Renya may yell at you for burning off my new clothes though.”

\--

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN—Some insight into Jareth’s feelings. Sarah’s willing to use that to her advantage. It’s a double edged sword so it may or may not work to her advantage.
> 
> I love writing / describing clothes so I thought I’d introduce the seamstress.
> 
> Next chapter will focus on J, S, and the Labyrinth.
> 
> More Q and A
> 
> Q: Why doesn’t Sarah slap Jareth? Throw a tantrum? Scream and flat out refuse to do things? Etc.
> 
> A: Jareth isn’t exactly prince charming in this fic—if she were to throw a tantrum, or slap him in the face, then he’d probably put her in an oubliette to cool off. So Sarah’s smart enough not to do those things. She understands the whole concept off ‘when in Rome…’ She knows that she’s in a world where she has to adapt or get killed—going against the grain isn’t going to help. There’s sort of a mix between collectivist and individualistic values and ideals of heroism here.
> 
> I can understand why people are confused—Hollywood and popular culture in general pushes extremely individualistic ideals. One hero (like some random B-grade action hero in an 80s movie) somehow manages to take down all of USSR. That isn’t happening in this fic. In this fic, the random 80s hero is going to conform to some Soviet ideals while playing the system and climbing up the ranks.
> 
> Q: But what about love?
> 
> A: Love is a very, very strong word. Sarah’s definition of love (Chapter 11—the fallible king) is willingness to put someone else’s needs ahead of your own. Neither of them are willing to do that at the moment but that doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other—in their own ways.
> 
> I’m always surprised that people find Jareth and Sarah’s relationship too unorthodox in this fic because they’ve only had sex twice. And neither has participated in orgies (or what have you)—in the time period that this fic takes place. From my perspective, it’s a relationship that is emotionally starved but isn’t anything too out of the ordinary.
> 
>  


	22. Absolute Destruction

**\--**

After a short healing session with Eires and a quick bath, I was escorted to dinner in a different dining room, a much smaller and more intimate one. With the Silver Court in session, the main dining area in the Great Hall would be hosting a formal dinner—one I wasn’t invited to apparently.

“You know, you really don’t have to babysit me, General,” I told the High General, who had decided to join me and keep me company. “I’m perfectly capable of eating dinner alone.”

Amer’s eyes twinkled, “I insist, Lady Sarah. Besides, I’d much rather babysit you than spend an entire dinner listening to the members of the Silver Court gossip and bicker with one another.”

I frowned. “I thought the Silver Bearers were less into gossip and more content with isolation?”

“Usually. But with a potential war looming ahead, let us say that each member has a different understanding of what needs to be done.” His friendly smile turned grim, “There is only so much patience I have for ridiculous debates. Especially from those who have never engaged in battle.”

_So—the dynamics between Jareth’s court and his High General were more complicated than I’d originally understood._

Taking a bite of the almond milk and rice dish I was served, I considered how to word my next sentence with tact. “I have a few things I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time, Amer,” I said, using his name deliberately “…they’re not easy questions.”

The General looked up, fixing his gaze onto mine. “Then I shall do my best to answer you, Lady Sarah,” his tone was genuine, but he seemed cautious. “From my experience, the most effective tactic for asking difficult questions is to be as straightforward as possible, with an unwavering expression on one’s face. But then again, I must warn you that diplomacy has never been one of my key strengths.”

I laughed at that—Amer would make a _terrible_ diplomat indeed. “Do you know about Jareth’s vaulted room with my portraits?”

Raising his brows, the General smiled amusedly. “Yes. The King was enthralled with you when you ran the Labyrinth, Lady Sarah. Surely, his fascination has been clearly evident to you.”

I scoffed at that. “Fascination is one way of putting it, Amer. He calls the place his personal gallery as a joke.”

“Call it what you will, Lady Sarah,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “The King feels strongly about you.”

“Given that half of those paintings are ripped to shreds, I suppose _strongly_ is the right word to use.” I gave him a strained smile. “How did he get those paintings anyway, is there a royal artist at his disposal? Or did he magic them into existence?”

The General laughed his loud booming laugh. “One cannot _magic_ paintings into existence, Lady Sarah—you know that,” he mock scolded me as I rolled my eyes. “I believe he painted them.”

Letting out a very un-lady like snort, I asked, “You expect me to believe that Jareth _manually_ painted all those portraits of me?”

“That is the truth, Lady Sarah,” Amer replied evenly, holding my gaze.

_An artistic flair to the Goblin King…how unexpected._

I remained silent for a few moments, the next question I wanted to ask him was significantly more difficult. Taking the General’s advice, I decided to delve headlong into it. “You once told me that I would be horrified by the things you’ve done in the past. So…”  I bit my lip, looking at him questioningly.

Understanding shone in Amer’s amber eyes—he knew what I wanted to ask him. “Of the many things you may find abhorrent, I shall share one particular occurrence with you. A few winters earlier, a Nastrondisian lord decided to breach our borders...”

I felt a sense of relief—I’d heard this story from Daemora, right before the binding ceremony. “Is this when Daemora puked her guts out as you ruptured his stomach with your sword? Daemora told me this story already. That’s not too horrific, Amer, you were only doing your job.”

The General sighed deeply and his eyes darkened. “What the Princess failed to tell you is that I executed all members of his household…” he smiled grimly as my eyes widened “…including a child of about 14 winters.”

“Why?” I whispered, the food that I’d just consumed sat heavy in my stomach and my blood ran cold.

“I acted as per the rules of battle between the Goblin Kingdom and Nastrondis, Lady Sarah,” Amer’s voice was expressionless. “They state that all members of the offending party’s household should be executed as they would be oath bound to swear vengeance, and that would only lead to an escalation of events in the future.”

“How could you just…” my voice broke before I could complete the sentence, but I kept my eyes on his. “How could you?”

Amer’s amber eyes flickered with pity. “I could. Very _easily_ —that’s what makes me a good soldier.”

My fork slipped through my fingers and clattered onto the plate. “I don’t think I can finish dinner,” I said softly, standing up from my chair.

The General stood up and placed a sympathetic hand on my arm. “May I remind you that the King asked you to join him at the atrium after dinner, Lady Sarah—could I sift you there?”

 _Christ_. I’d forgotten about meeting Jareth at the atrium. Managing a weak smile, I replied, “No thanks, Amer, I need the walk.”

\--

Cursing myself as I almost tripped on the hem of my cloak for the third time, I decided to stick to pants in the future. With most of my clothes taken away for laundry, I had to wear one of Renya’s dresses tonight—it was a simple, floor length wrap dress that had a single tie at the side of the waist. There was a slit on the side that came up right above the knee. Of course, I _also_ had to wear a cloak or risk freezing to death. And cloaks, as it turned out, were not the most convenient things when it came to mobility. Especially when walking up a winding staircase that seemed to go on forever.

Amer’s words sat heavy on my mind, as did Jareth’s. _“You are in a barbaric, as you say, world now, Sarah. You can choose to be stronger or perish.”_

As deeply lost as I was in my thoughts, I didn’t realize I had reached the heavy doors to the atrium until I heard a host of different voices coming from the inside—my blood froze in my veins as I recognized one them all too well. The Head Priestess’s steely but musical voice floated right into the hallway, making me cringe. A violent shiver ran down my spine as I fought to keep my emotions under control.

I could picture Beina Nae in my mind as she stood, towering over me, rotting pieces of flesh still tethered to her bull skull mask. _“Prepare yourself, mortal Sarah Williams. The power of the Labyrinth comes for you.”_

I had every intention of waiting outside, until I heard Jareth’s commanding voice, “Come in, Sarah.”

_This was just fucking awesome. How had he even known that I was outside the doors?!_

Walking in slowly, I took a hesitant step onto the transparent crystal floor. The first thing I noticed was that the room was arranged differently than it normally was. There were no armchairs by the fireplace; instead, Jareth sat at the far end of the room on an enormous chair made of solid wood.

Along with the Head Priestess, two Silver Bearers that I did not recognize stood next to him—one was a woman wearing a military armor that was less intricate than Jareth’s. Her silver hair was pulled back into a high pony tail and she had a sword strapped onto her side. Her ice blue eyes warmed up as she looked at me, giving me a polite bow. “Defeater.”

The other Silver Bearer was a man I vaguely remembered seeing at the binding ceremony—he’d sat with the other silver haired beings and cheered while I was going through hell and back. His hair was slicked back, and he wore a dark leather tunic. Nodding slightly in my direction, he did not say anything as I walked towards them.

“Come here, Sarah,” Jareth commanded imperiously as he gave me a fleeting look, his dual eyes expressionless.

_“Address me, and then address the High Priestess.”_

As annoying as it felt to hear his voice in my head, I was glad he could give me these directions. Walking up to him like he asked, I bowed low. “Your Highness.” I turned to face Beina Nae and did the same, “Head Priestess.”

“Mortal Sarah Williams, I am pleased that you have recovered,” Beina Nae’s ethereal voice slithered with magic as her words vibrated against my ears. Without her frightening mask, she looked more like a magical fantasy princess than the scary Head Priestess she actually was. Her features were softer than most other Silver Bearers, less elongated. Her cheekbones stood out, but less sharply, and her hair fell in soft waves, framing her heart-shaped face. Although she looked far less intimidating than she had at the binding ceremony, I fought to keep myself from wincing as the painful memories of the ritual flooded my mind.

“Thanks,” I said, keeping my reply short. The irony of the fact that I had spent much of my time in the Underground recovering from something or the other, made me smile faintly.

_“Stand behind me.”_

Perhaps I imagined it, but there was a hint of emotion in Jareth’s otherwise authoritative voice. I felt a sense of solace as I stood behind him, as if, somehow he would protect me from the rest of them. The man in the leather tunic looked at me through his silvery lashes, his frosty gaze unquestionably not friendly.

“Continue,” Jareth demanded, eyeing the Head Priestess with his trademark look of infinite boredom that I’d seen quite often at the Dark Court.

She bowed low. “My lord, I implore you to consider my requests. I only wish the best for our people and the renewal of our magic.”

Jareth didn’t move a muscle, and his expression did not change. “As do I.”

“Then perhaps you should allow our priestesses to train the human, Your Majesty,” the silver haired man interrupted, his voice sharper than Jareth’s, more cutting. His piercing gaze fell on me for a few seconds before he turned back to Jareth.

_Definitely not friendly, then._

Raising a sardonic brow, Jareth replied, “Thank you, Rhaf—let me remind you, again, that the priestesses do not have much experience in dealing with humans. It would cause me a great deal of inconvenience, if they were to kill _this_ one accidently.”

Rhaf looked like he wanted to argue, but he did not say anything. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“I’m not going to have this argument again, Rhaf—no one in the last millennia has survived the binding ceremony. This mortal can be an invaluable weapon, but only if wielded well.”

Rhaf did not reply, but the Head Priestess sighed deeply. Her fathomless eyes glistened like twin shards of radioactive ice. “What of the heir, my lord?”

“While she is allowed to participate in your rituals, you do not have permission to train her until she is of age.”

Beina Nae kept her gaze steady as she replied, “Our circumstances are desperate. The power she yields will lead to our salvation.”

“She is too young to master the magic she possesses without risking death,” Jareth said brusquely, demanding an end to the debate. “It is _exceedingly_ unwise to risk the death of the _only_ heir to the Kingdom.”

“You have the strongest magic of any being in the last four millennia, Your Majesty,” Rhaf cut into their conversation again. Something told me this was a regular occurrence. “You could provide a royal heir, an _exceedingly_ powerful one, if you so wished.”

 _Ooh la la._ Jareth providing heirs sounded disturbing, but also hilarious at the same time. I stifled the urge to snort with laughter.

Jareth smiled a predatory smile, one that bared his spiky teeth and raised goosebumps on my skin. “Thank you for your insight, Rhaf,” he said in a deceptively calm voice. If I were Rhaf, I’d bid a quick farewell and leave without looking back. “If that is all, I have matters to discuss with the Captain and Lady Sarah.”

Rhaf recognized the dismissal and bowed. “Your Majesty.” He sifted out of the atrium without saying a word to the rest of us.

I resisted the urge to take a step back as the Head Priestess turned her gaze onto me, a serene smile on her full lips. “I would be honored to teach you the ways of our magic, mortal Sarah Williams.”

I stood there, gaping at her for a few moments, until I heard Jareth’s voice in my head. _“Don’t just stand there, answer her, Sarah.”_

I stopped myself from glaring at Jareth, as I looked at the Head Priestess. “Thank you, Beina Nae. Maybe after I finish my basic training?”

She bowed, seemingly pleased with my answer. “Of course,” she said, turning to look at Jareth. “My lord,” she bowed so deeply, her hair touched the crystal floor. “Should you need me, I am at your disposal.” Saying that, she disappeared from room in a flurry of ice and wind.

 _Okay, that was sufficiently weird._ Two down, one to go—I thought, looking at the woman in the military armor.

She stood in front of Jareth, her stance invariably that of a soldier at attention. “Your Majesty.”

Making a small gesture with his hand, indicating that she could stand at ease, Jareth gave her an appraising look. “Captain Liezse, you may share your observations with Lady Sarah.”

I raised my brows. _This was Captain Liezse?_

The Captain turned to me, her stoic expression eased up a little as she gave me a friendly smile. “I regret that you had to experience such an ordeal at the hands of the Agean butcher.”

Her eyes were as iridescently unnerving as the rest of the Silver Bearers, but I was taken aback by the genuine sincerity that was evident in her gaze and tone of voice. It wasn’t _her_ fault that I’d ended up in Calestos’s torture chamber, yet she seemed to feel a sense of responsibility. “It’s not your fault, Captain Liezse. It was actually very stupid of me to wander around the gardens by myself.”

She beamed at that—Jareth thinned his lips, seemingly displeased. He hadn’t yet lectured me about that particular incident. Groaning internally, I wondered whether he’d start tonight.

“Thank you, Defeater,” she said with a nod. “I gave a full account of your dealings with various court members to the King. While you fared well for the most part, there were times you turned your back on certain members without realizing that they could have easily attacked you. I wouldn’t have been able to reach you in time.”

I frowned, trying to recall my time at the Dark Court. “I was on guard with Dagir, and I had Amer’s fire band on my head….” _Who else had I met alone?_ “So that leaves Arges and Iselin.” I looked up to see that the Captain’s expression confirmed my thoughts. “I don’t think either would have attacked me.”

“Of course,” Liezse’s smile was back in place. “Nevertheless, it is in your best interest to remain alert in the future. As I stated, I was a considerable distance away and wouldn’t have been able to reach you in time, _should_ something have happened. Trust must be earned, Defeater—you give it easily to those you do not know well.”

“Thank you for keeping me safe, Captain Liezse,” I replied, returning her smile.

She nodded at me. “Your Majesty,” she gave Jareth a quick bow and sifted out of the room.

 _Well…that left the two of us_. “She’s nice.”

Jareth smiled coldly at my assessment before rising from his massive chair. “Come Sarah,” he said, turning to look at me, extending his arm.

Raising my brows, I stared back at him, confused. “Are you sifting us somewhere?”

“My apartments. Unless you’d rather stay here and face the multitude of Silver Court members who may decide to drop in.” He raised a brow, as if daring me to challenge him.

I did not.

\--

Jareth sifted us to his personal sitting room, bringing back a flood of memories that made my blood run hot. I remembered how I had kneeled in front of him, my body in between his legs. How his dual eyes became hooded with lust as I took him into my mouth. How he’d pushed me against the cold, stone wall as he entered me slowly. A slow blush crept up my cheeks and down my neck.

Walking towards the fireplace, I sat down on the armchair to the right, just I had the last time, and removed my cloak. I turned around when I noticed that Jareth did not sit on the chair next to me. Instead, he stood in the middle of the room, where we’d sifted, and was staring at his father’s portrait.

“Jareth?” I called, unable to keep a hint of concern from creeping into my voice.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Jareth walked towards me, a sense of tiredness in his dual eyes.

“You seem exhausted.”

He gave me a tight lipped smile. “Silver Court sessions can be strenuous,” he replied, sinking into the armchair in one fluid motion.  

“More than the Dark Court?” I asked curiously.

“I have more responsibility here, so yes.” He leaned back, one arm languidly draped across the backrest. Shutting his eyes, he massaged his temples with one hand, as if easing a headache.

I looked at him inquiringly for a few moments. _Why had he called me here anyway—so that we could sit in awkward silence?_ Not if I could help it.

”So what’s with Daemora’s powers?” I asked, unable to take the silence any longer. “I thought she didn’t have magic wielded in battle?”

Jareth sighed, his eyes still shut. “Daemora possesses a specific kind of magic that can cause absolute destruction to the entire realm.”

I gaped. “You mean she can blow up the Underground?”

A deep laugh. “In a manner of speaking. At the moment, she is more of a danger to herself than she is to anyone else and I will not have them risk her life.” He materialized two glasses of mead and handed me one.

“Jareth the protector,” I said absently, taking a sip of the amber liquid. “Why did you want to meet me tonight?”

“I thought you’d need a strong drink, considering your training. And I thought to provide you with some background to the Silver Court.”

I laughed. _Jareth voluntarily sharing information_ , how ironic. “Amer _is_ brutal, but at least I’m finally getting _somewhere_ with fire. If you’re actually going to educate me on the Silver Court, maybe you should start with what the priestesses want with me?”

This made Jareth sit up and look at me, his dual eyes pierced into mine. I’d seen the look on his face a few times before—he was deciding on _how much_ information he wanted to share. “The Labyrinth’s magic has evolved throughout the years. They believe it may be tainted, hence the decrease in our numbers. That perhaps _you_ are the key in reversing this.”

“So why _wouldn’t_ you want me to help out?”

A raised brow. “You realize your safety isn’t their priority.”

“Why is it yours?” I asked, genuinely curious. As… _obsessed…_ with me as he was, surely, he’d choose helping his people over keeping me safe.

“ _Sa-rah_ …” Jareth drew out my name, as if it was his own personal possession. “Shut up.” Saying that, he leaned back into the chair and shut his eyes, taking a large sip from his glass of mead.

 _Well…_ that _was new._

“Okay.” I couldn’t help but guffaw at Jareth’s use of the phrase. “So do the Silver Court members know about your so called personal gallery?”

“No, I suggest you keep that knowledge to yourself.”

I rolled my eyes—any information I wanted from him was going to have to be pried from his cold dead hands. “Who knows about it?”

“Amer and Astre—probably Oren, I doubt Astre keeps anything from her father.”

 _Oh_. “What about Dagir? He was really adamant about figuring out what I meant to you.” Shifting uncomfortably when Jareth gave me a sidelong glance, I added, “ _His_ words, not mine.”

A derisive smile. “Dagir is a simpleton. I doubt they tell him anything important.”

 _So Jareth viewed Dagir with utter disdain_ —I kept that thought locked away. Speaking of Nastrondisians, I had something else I wanted to discuss. “I think we need to invite Iselin over, she can be turned.”

This earned me another sidelong glance. “Turned?”

“She can become a spy for you.”

Jareth raised an amused brow. “What makes you draw such a conclusion after spending only a few hours with her?”

“I get the feeling she is lonely, isolated, and in desperate need of a friend. A friend that I could easily be, or _pretend_ to be, if necessary,” I replied with a shrug.

“You believe she would turn traitor for _friendship_? Come now, precious, you’ve lived in our world long enough not to be that naïve,” Jareth said with a slow, rumbling laugh.

I blew out a huff of air, irritated by his quick dismissal. “It’s not just about friendship. She’s treated with contempt by Oren and Astre, and probably the entire Nastrondisian court. And she’s terrified of Astre. Anger and fear are emotions that are easy to manipulate Jareth. _You,_ of all people, should know that.”

Evaluating me with his glittering eyes, Jareth straightened his back indicating that I had his attention. “You’ve clearly had a _captivating_ conversation with Iselin, _Sarah dearest_. I am curious as to why you did not tell me about it earlier.”

Flashing him a smile, I decided to reply with the truth. “Information seems to be power in your world, Jareth. Can’t blame me for trying to hang on to the little I’ve been dealt.”

He held my gaze. “I suppose not.” Jareth’s tone indicated that I better get on with it as he was beginning to lose his patience.

“She overheard a conversation between Astre and Oren—she was complaining that you’ve been avoiding her after the last court session.”

If Jareth felt anything in regards to that statement, he did not show it, save for a tightening in his jaw. “Is that all she said?”

“Uh…no,” I said, sighing as his lips thinned. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation. “She said that the entire west wing of the Marble Palace could hear us have sex. _Then_ , she said that her cousin was perturbed that her perfect companion seemed to be busy elsewhere,” I mumbled out the latter half, forcing myself to meet his eyes unflinchingly. This had nothing to do with me…yet I felt more than a little uncomfortable. “Once again, those were _her_ exact words, _not_ mine.”

“Then I shall speak to Iselin.” Jareth’s eerily calm voice made me shiver involuntarily.

“No,” I cut in, my voice more forceful than I would have liked.

Jareth was silent for a few excruciating heartbeats, his mismatched eyes glittering dangerously as they studied me. “No?”

“She’s terrified of you,” I explained, hoping I was able to vindicate Iselin—she’d told me everything in confidence. I couldn’t have Jareth go ballistic on her, or I’d lose her trust. “Something about seeing you send a man into the Rising Forest with a Roast Skin, when she was only ten years old.”

Jareth gave me an unnerving look, but remained silent.

Swallowing up the revulsion I felt when I remembered Iselin’s words, I continued as casually as I could, “She was too disturbed by her memories to describe a Roast Skin for me—she only said it was a creature made of nightmares and that it killed the man slowly, taking over a month.”

“Sarah.”

I went on, pretending I hadn’t heard him. “She said that she overheard you and Astre laugh at the man.”

“Sarah.”

I looked into the fire, my face suddenly hot. “You guys sure did a number on her. Hell, you probably still haunt her nightmares.”

“ _Sarah_!”

Ah—the authoritarian was back. “Yes?” I looked at him, surprised that he hadn’t moved a muscle.

“That was a long while ago.”

“A century and six winters,” I took a large gulp of mead before I said anything stupid. It didn’t taste all that bad for a liquid that felt like it was burning a hole in my throat.

“A Roast Skin is a creature from a child’s nightmare, hence its simplistic name. A beast that walks on two legs and does not have a head—it is covered with skin that looks like it has been roasted.” Jareth’s face was impassive when he spoke, but his voice was deeper than usual. “I possess certain… _instincts_ that need to be _contained_ , Sarah. I will not pretend that I haven’t enjoyed indulging in these impulses in the past. However, in more recent times, I have been able to master a significant amount of control over them.”

Unable to hold his arresting gaze any longer, I turned back to the fire. _How should I respond to that?_ Jareth had pretty much said that he had an instinct… _to what?_ Toy with people and kill them? At the very least, leave them for dead? _Jesus_. “What about the Visanyanese you gave to the Bone Priestesses as a sacrifice?” I couldn’t help but blurt out.

“Iselin has been _quite_ the informant, hasn’t she?” Jareth’s voice was pleasant, but I knew the hidden threat behind those words.

I looked up at him, eyes wide. “Please don’t hold any of this against her. I _made_ her talk to me—she didn’t want to.”

A short laugh. “So quick to come to her defense, _my heroine_. Did it occur to you that Iselin was acting on orders?”

“I doubt she was lying Jareth. I could be wrong, but do you really think _Iselin_ could be that convincing? Or that they’d let her talk about Oren?”

“Perhaps not,” he tilted his head, giving me a calculating glance. “As for your question regarding the Visanyanese woman, I give all forfeiters to the Bone Priestesses as an act of kindness.”

 _Was he fucking kidding? An act of kindness to whom?_ Staring at him quietly, I kept my thoughts to myself. “I would have asked her more questions, but Arges showed up and we headed over to the vineyards after that.”

Jareth’s eyes sharpened when I mentioned the Agean General’s name. “You left quite an impression on the Demi General,” he said, smiling slowly, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What did you manage to glean from him, _precious_?”

I looked back at him, my gaze unwavering. “You could always look into my mind and find out.”

A malicious grin. “I’d rather not, Sarah dearest.” The hidden threat of ‘but I will’ was left unsaid.

I decided to humor him, it wasn’t like Arges’s information would be of any use to me anyway. “He said Deimos didn’t have a new power source—that such a power source would have been detected. And that he and Reyerjis were looking to access the Labyrinth’s power through me.”

The grin remained on Jareth’s face, but his dual eyes darkened until they were almost black. A gloved hand gripped the armrest, and his shoulders were tense.

“Jareth?”

“Sarah,” Jareth’s voice was deceivingly soft, but I could notice the rage building underneath. “Had I known this piece of information, I would have increased your security.”

I knew I should have kept my mouth shut, but his words condescending words fueled my growing anger. “I didn’t even know I _had_ security to begin with, Jareth…so if you’re going to gloat over my stupidity, do it quickly.”

Jareth’s eyes lightened—his anger seemingly having disappeared. “I believe you suffered enough for your lack of good judgment, Sarah. Gloating will serve no purpose.”

What could I say to that? He was correct. “Did I serve my purpose with Arges?” I asked, my brows raised.

An appraising look. “Yes, I daresay you did.”

Maybe it was the arrogance in his voice, or the appraising expression on his face—I felt surge of rage that I couldn’t squash down. “You said you would have left us alone in the vineyards had you known that Deimos would not be joining us at the Mosaic Hall…”

Jareth’s dual gaze turned harsh, “I would have. Regardless, you served your purpose with Arges, _precious_ , he seems to _trust_ you.” He said the word trust like it had a completely different meaning.

 _Fuck that,_ he had no right to be pissed with me. “You sent me to _impress_ him, Jareth,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But you were furious that I kissed him. Hell, you’re _still_ furious—I can read it in your eyes.” I laughed derisively, my anger getting the best of me. “And yet, I have a feeling you wouldn’t have interfered had I fucked him.”

Jareth was quiet for a few seconds, but his eyes flashed dangerously. “You have always been free to do as you wish, Sarah.”

“I’ve upset you again,” I said, keeping my voice sugary sweet, and a smile on my lips. “But I only acted on _your_ orders, Jareth.”

Jareth stood up abruptly—the smile on my lips faded as quickly as it had appeared. “Stop talking, Sarah,” his voice was soft, but commanding all the same. Keeping his eyes hooked on mine, he walked over to me, his steps deliberately slow.

My grip on the glass tightened as I heard the heels of his boots click against the stone floor, until he stood next to me.

Leaning down, Jareth ran his fingers along my jawline in a soft caress—his gloves were gone, and his skin was cold to touch. “I have resisted the violent urge to lure the Demi General deep into the Labyrinth and leave him there. I suggest you stop tempting me.”

I shivered as I felt his fingers caress the line along my throat, hovering dangerously close to the neckline of my dress. My skin felt feverishly hot in contrast to his cool touch. Just as his fingers dipped below the soft fabric of my dress, he pulled back and stalked towards his chair—his eyes holding an all too familiar, smug expression.

I knew he was teasing me, just like he had the night before. I was all too happy to prove to Jareth that two could play the role of the tease. “Violent urge?” I said in a playful voice, leaning back into a relaxed position. “Why don’t you paint General Arges’s portraits and rip them to shreds instead?”

Baring his teeth in a jagged smile, Jareth ignored my taunt, and kept silent.

Imitating one of his slow, lazy smiles, I continued, “Is that some sort of anger management technique for you?”

“As refreshing as your Aboveground terms are, precious, they’re not _entirely_ accurate.”

 _Ah—the Goblin King was refusing to take my bait_.

I decided to test how long he could resist the emotions he kept below the surface. “How would that work? Would you paint his portrait every time I fucked him?” Leaning back some more, I stretched my legs on a nearby ottoman, arching my back. My fingers played absently with the neckline of my dress.

Jareth sat up, his eyes darkening completely. “I advise you to stop trying my patience, Sarah.”

“Or maybe your princess will bring you a similar looking human and you guys can…I don’t know, _fuck_ with him enough to drive him to commit suicide.”

Jareth’s lips curled into a chilling smile. Rising from his chair, his movements deliberately slow. “Come, _precious_ ,” his voice was sickeningly saccharine.

I stared at him, wide eyed, my heart thundering riotously in my chest as he made his way towards me. I just had to go and poke a sleeping tiger, didn’t I?

Fortunately, a loud knock interrupted whatever it was that Jareth had planned to do.

“So,” I said, getting up swiftly, “I really should get to bed…if you don’t mind…which I hope you don’t, because-”

“The door to the far right opens up to my bedroom,” Jareth interrupted my nonsensical babbling. “Stay there.”

 _Wait, what?_ “I’d rather go to sleep,” I argued. “Tomorrow being another long day and all.”

“There are four members of the Silver Court outside that door, Sarah—they must not see you in my apartments. I cannot sift you to your room at the moment, so if you must sleep, you can do so in my bedroom.”

 _Oh_. “I’ve never been someone’s scandalous secret before—I thought it’d be more exciting than this.”

Jareth’s deep rumbling laughter reverberated against the stone walls of his apartments. “I’m sure you will have more excitement than you can handle, when we complete our previous conversation.”

_That did not sound good._

Deciding I’d pissed him off enough for one night, I did as he asked and made my way into his bedroom without any further arguments.

\--

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN—Some important conversations happening here.  
> Shout out to reader Anisky on Ao3 who caught on about Daemora’s powers all the way back in chapter 5—Blood and Fealty.
> 
> Sorry for the delay, my social life has been out of control—I’ve had to attend a restaurant opening, valentine’s day dinner, engagement party, a crazy shopping session—all in a week. I thought I’d get some reprieve tonight, but nope. More social stuff. It doesn’t help that every time I sit to write, I get distracted by YouTube videos. Seth Meyers is killing it.
> 
> Winters/Summers—both are used to measure years—depending on the season. The Goblin Kingdom mostly uses ‘winters’ b/c it’s perpetually winter there.


	23. Full Phase Preparations

 

**\--**

I was surprised to find myself in a different room than the one Jareth had sifted us to the last time. To say his room was big would be an understatement—it was _enormous_ and sparsely furnished, making the colossal space stand out even more. His bed, while monstrous, did not have a canopy, giving it a strangely modern, clean cut look.

As with all other rooms in the castle, there was a massive fireplace that dominated the far wall, and situated next to the roaring fire was a single oversized armchair. This made it quite evident that he did not receive any guests in this room as there was nowhere else for them to sit.

A series of vaulted windows lined the adjacent wall, displaying a panoramic view of snowcapped mountains below. The night sky in the Goblin Kingdom was soft, far paler than the midnight blue sky in Agea. The almost full moon shone brightly in the backdrop, bathing the snow covered landscape with eerie silver light. I could smell the pinecones that covered the mountains below—reminding me of _his_ scent.

Growing bored after a few minutes of looking at the view, I walked up to one of the doors that opened out of Jareth’s room, to find myself in an equally enormous bathroom. Everything was made of polished slate and stone—the sunken tub was probably four times the size of mine _. It sure as hell seemed good to be king_.

At the very far side was a dressing area that was ridiculously large. I gaped, open mouthed, as I took in the sheer amount of clothes the Goblin King owned. _What a diva_. I went through the racks, frowning as I came across a pair of crème colored silk pajamas that were clearly too small for him…and too feminine.

I knew I should have left it alone, but I couldn’t help but run my fingers through the silky fabric, relishing the smooth feeling. It was clean and looked new, but I wondered whose it was—a certain flaxen haired princess came to the forefront of my mind.

 _Do_ not _go down that road, Williams—you’re going to lose_.

Undressing myself slowly, I didn’t even bother thinking about what I was doing as I wore the silk pajamas. The fit was a little too large for me, but comfortable enough. The fabric was so thin, it was see-through, I could see the dark outlines of my nipples. It was clearly something meant to cover yet entice— _a paradox_.

Did he prefer the Princess clothed, I wondered, did he like peeling off layers of clothing slowly? The image of Jareth and Princess Astre burned in my mind and heat flowed through my veins. “Don’t even think of going there _,”_ I berated myself again—this time, saying the words out loud. As if _that’d_ make a difference.

Splashing cool water onto my face, I patted my face dry with one of his fluffy towels and stepped out of the bathroom, still wearing the pajamas. Perhaps I wanted to get some kind of reaction out of him, or perhaps I wanted him to know that I wasn’t easily unnerved.

A small voice in my head laughed at that—I _was_ unnerved, more than I had a right to be. I wanted to rile up his emotions like he did mine, I mused as I climbed onto his bed, which was fairly highly situated, and got under the covers. What I hadn’t planned on doing was falling asleep.

\--

“I’d prefer to let you rest, but we have matters to discuss, _dearest_.”

I sprang up to a sitting position as I felt Jareth’s breath against my ear. “Jesus.”

“I prefer to be called Jareth,” he said, rumbling out a deep laugh, as if he was correcting me. _Jerk_.

Shaking myself awake, I yelped when I realized his amused face was inches from mine. He wore black silk pajama pants with a matching fur lined robe, which exposed a slim expanse of his lean chest all the way to his navel.

“Give me some space, please,” I muttered, scrambling away from him.

“Ironic that you require space when you’ve willingly placed yourself in my bed,” he said with a slow smile, his resonant voice reverberating around the room. Still, to his credit, he didn’t make a move to come towards me.

After placing a considerable distance between the both of us, I gave him half a smile. “ _Ironic_ doesn’t even begin to cover my relationship with you.”

Slow, rich laughter resounded from his chest as he threw his head back and laughed. “True,” he agreed, a smile remained on his bow shaped lips. “As much as I’d like to explore our _ironic_ arrangement, I believe you have some unanswered questions.” Saying that, he looked at me intently, his eyes now sharply scrutinizing my every move.

My skin grew hot under his acute gaze, and I stretched my back to ease my muscles. “Your bed is really uncomfortable,” I mumbled, trying to ease the tension. “Why don’t you sleep on a slab of stone instead?”

He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ve never been one for soft surfaces.”

I supposed that made sense—everything about him was severely beautiful—harsh, much like his Kingdom.

“Your questions, _Sa-rah_. I believe you wished to know more about the Agean mortal.” His tone was sharp indicating that his patience was wearing thin.

I looked away from his arresting gaze—this conversation was going to be uncomfortable enough that I didn’t want to add to it. “In simplest terms, what did you _do_ to her?” My tone was firm but my stomach quivered in anticipation. What I really wanted to ask was ‘what kind of fucked up relationship do you have with Astre?’ Which, of course, I didn’t.

A gleam of amusement shone in his ethereal eyes as Jareth mused over my words. After a few moments, he stated, “You wish for me to explain myself, yet you skirt around the issue.”

Choosing to keep silent, I pursed my lips—lest I open my mouth and shove my foot in it. It was unnerving how he could read me like a book, even after I’d fought very hard to keep my face impassive.

“Very well,” he said with a disarming smile. “I have known Princess Astre since I was a child, you could say that we grew _similar_ interests. I’ll admit that we ran wild for two centuries—after which, I’ve done everything in my power to keep myself under control. Seeking help from Amer and the Silver Lady, I have been able to do that with the occasional outlet.”

 _Occasional outlet?_ That made him sound like a serial killer who kept his killing urges under control…the thought made me feel light headed, but I trudged on. “How do _I_ fit into this?”

He tapped an ungloved finger to his lips as his eyes grew dark. His robe shifted, exposing a larger sliver of alabaster skin. “You called on me, _Sa-rah_ ,” he said, his voice low and his gaze unfocused, as if he were recalling a memory. “You called on the Goblin King to take the child away and I chose _not_ to answer you.”

I swallowed, trying to remember the _exact_ sequence of events that fateful night. “But the goblins came…”

“After you invoked the goblins, I had no choice—the goblins, being the original denizens of the Labyrinth, are even more tied to its laws than I. Contrary to what you believe, I don’t enjoy sacrificing the sanctioned to the Labyrinth. They are, after all, _defenseless_ children.”

My temper flared. “Unlike the runners?”

A sharp grin. “They are not so innocent, are they?”

Suppressing a shudder at his icy tone, I wondered what would have happened had I chosen my dreams and turned into a forfeiter. Would he have given me over to the Bone Priestesses as an act of kindness? Would he have remembered me _at all_?

“You unleashed a terrible force within us—an unfathomable sense of yearning, and the Labyrinth responded in kind. When you rejected my offer, you effectively rejected the Labyrinth and that escalated the destabilization of its magic.” He paused, tilting his head, his dissecting gaze making sure to study the emotions that crossed my face. “I tried containing the unstable magic, and unfortunately the instability _spread_ onto me, like an accursed illness. For that’s what it is _, my dearest_ —my yearning for you is an illness.”

I gaped, my eyes wide. What could I say to that—that I was _sorry_? Except, I wasn’t. Even if I could turn back time, there was no way I would sacrifice either Toby or myself, just so the Labyrinth’s magic would be preserved from further destabilization. Still, I seemed to have harmed him in ways I didn’t understand, and the thought made me feel some amount of guilt.

“When Astre brought the Agean human to me, I was so tempted to…” his voice was mild as it drifted off, but the look in his eyes was frightening enough to make me gasp out loud. A hint of a smile ghosted on his lips as he noticed my eyes widen in fear.

 _Tempted to what_ , I wanted to ask him— _kill her_?

He sighed. “I didn’t—I merely asked her to leave. What went on between her and Astre is something you’d have to ask Astre. That is not to say I blame _her_ for the chain of events that followed, she was under the impression that the mortal would help alleviate some of my…concerns.”

“How did you react to the woman’s death?” I asked with morbid fascination—perhaps hoping that he would redeem himself.

A laconic brow. “Did the Crown Prince not tell you? _I_ stepped into the Turquoise Sea to pull her out. Unfortunately, mortals being as _fragile_ as they are, she was already deceased. Nothing in my power would have returned her life.”

“Dagir kept that bit of info to himself,” I mumbled, looking away, a crimson blush spreading across my face and down my neck…down the low cut neckline of someone else’s pajamas that I’d borrowed. My face turned redder still when I thought about how ridiculous I looked.

“Shall I sift you back to your chambers?” His voice had taken on a teasing quality as the delighted gleam returned to his eyes. _Trust him to be so mercurial_. “Or is there something else you wish to know?”

I kept myself from rolling my eyes, he knew there were a million things I wanted to know, if only he’d tell me. Regardless, he was offering free information, and I had to take advantage.

“What do you want from me, Jareth?” I asked, head on—being as direct as I possibly could.

He stared me down for a few seconds. “It’s not about what I want, _dearest_ , but what I _need_. I need you to… _succeed_ as the vessel. War is coming to the Underground and you will be required to store vast amounts of magic. It is imperative that you learn how to contain it, or else your mortal body will not be able to withstand the Labyrinth’s magical force.”

I breathed in deeply. This brought me to another topic that had been on my mind lately. “The binding ceremony is over, Jareth—you can unbind my life from yours.”

His gaze turned dark. “What purpose would that serve?”

“It’s been evident to me, ever since I understood the full meaning of my role, that I may die as the human vessel, Jareth. You were… _affected_ by the binding ceremony…and you’re the _strongest_ in four millennia.”

“Do you have a point, _precious_?” There was an edge to his voice I couldn’t place.

“If I die, Jareth, you’d be weakened. You may lose the war. And uh,” I stammered uncomfortably, “…that wouldn’t be good.” _Brilliant choice of words, Williams, brilliant._

A strange emotion reflected in Jareth’s dual gaze as his breathing quickened. “Being bound to me has kept you alive thus far, Sarah, I will not unbind you. Consider it a remuneration for willing to be the vessel.”

I bit my lip—he clearly wasn’t going to unbind me even if it was in his best interest to do so. I knew I had to ask my next question carefully, but directly. “Would you let me go after the war? I wouldn’t really be of any use to you.”

“I could,” Jareth replied, his voice deceptively quiet.

My heart beat faster as I gained some hope. “How much time would have passed in my world?”

“I could make it such that you are returned exactly at the time you left your realm,” he said in the same quiet voice, his gaze remained impassive.

I sucked in a deep breath. “You would do that for me?”

A cruel smile broke out across the Goblin King’s face, his savage teeth gleaming as they reflected the moonlight. “I said I _could_ , Sarah dearest.” He laughed a deliberately slow laugh that vibrated against my very bones. “Do you think me naïve, _precious Sarah_? That I do not know of your busy little plans to escape my fealty oath?”

My heart thudded in my ears and my pulse raced, partly in fear and partly in anger. Miraculously, I was able to my temper at check and my breathing even. I wanted to rage at him, scream and shout—but I did not. I simply stared back.

Jareth continued, his voice edged with malice, “Do you truly believe that _you_ can ever outmaneuver _me_?”

I opened and shut my mouth, unable to answer him. His lips were twisted in a feral snarl and the lines on his face turned harsher by the second. I was reminded, very clearly, that he was indeed the creature from my nightmares and I was on thin ice.

Eyes blazing with a violent mélange of intense emotions, Jareth looked at me silently for a few heartbeats before pinning me down in a fluid movement that was too quick for me to follow. His eyes were so dark that they were black, reflecting the silvery glow of the moonlight.

“I thought I made it perfectly evident, _dearest_. _We_ will _never_ let you go.” Saying that he brought his teeth down on my right shoulder and bit me hard enough that I felt the sensitive skin break.

I cried in pain, his teeth were damn sharp!

“Shh, precious,” he murmured, his lips and tongue now soothing the bite. The wet suction of his mouth making my skin tingle and my pulse quicken. Jareth’s face morphed into something else, something _more severe_. His eyes held a silvery glow and his hair looked as wild as ever.

Feeling his hot mouth on my bare skin brought me to a state of acute arousal—the telltale ache of agonizing need that only he could evoke started pulsing in my core. Simultaneously, the vicious, possessed look on his face made my body tremble in fear as adrenaline pumped in my veins. The combined effect was an overwhelming blend of fear and lust that intensified my arousal—and I couldn’t fight it any longer. Throwing caution to the wind, I ran my hand down the silvery expanse of skin exposed by his robe.

Looking at me with fire in his eyes, Jareth made a low sound in his throat before attacking my mouth with a ferocity I had never experienced from him before. A rational part of me knew I shouldn’t have responded. I shouldn’t have felt a wet rush of desire when I felt his razor sharp teeth bite my lips. I shouldn’t have felt the need to push my body against his until the throbbing in between my legs was sated… _but I did_. I responded to him in kind, moaning when his tongue invaded my mouth, his kiss languid but rough. I could feel him stir, hot and hard against my stomach.

Lips still locked onto mine, Jareth shifted so that his cock was directly pressed against my core, making me whimper out loud. I couldn’t help but move against him, seeking friction—anything to relieve the painful arousal that threatened to drive me insane.

Jareth tore his lips from mine before dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin of my throat—making me hiss with pain. That only seemed to excite him _more_ as he pulled my body against his even tighter.

Tugging his robe impatiently, I ran the tips of my fingers over his nipples, smiling as I heard him sigh. My hands caressed the bare skin of his chest, marveling at the feel of lean muscles that were just beneath the surface. Just as my hands were about to venture lower, I felt a sharp mental tug. A series of images flashed before my eyes—a bright green clearing, a road paved by uneven rocks, high walls, a sparkling blue lake…

In a split second, Jareth pulled himself off of me, his breath coming out heavy and labored. His eyes returned to their normal state. “The moon is almost in its full phase. You should leave.”

_Wait. What?_

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” I exclaimed—this was the second night he’d left me cold. The lust he’d awoken still ran hot in my veins, seeking an outlet in anger. “Fuck you, Jareth.”

Jareth growled and clenched his fists. “Do you feel that?”

As soon as he said those words, I felt a sudden burst of magic erupt into the atmosphere, strong enough to make me feel like I was being ripped apart. I felt strange sensations—unbearably hot and cold at the same time, like I was being both, stretched and compressed. Every hair on my body stood on edge, cackling with energy.

“Stop,” I hissed through gritted teeth.

And just like that, the sensations stopped—the magical hum died down.

Jareth bared his teeth, the look in his dual eyes feral. “I have stopped the surge from affecting you thus far. Did you not listen to me _listen_ to me when I said I lose control around you—that I want to _consume_ you?” His voice, however, was calm, perhaps lethally so.

Fear churned slowly in the pit of my stomach, a calm Jareth was far scarier than an emotional one. “I’m not made of glass Jareth,” I said, my tone soft but unwavering, my gaze hooked onto his. “I may as well be prepared for when the Labyrinth’s magic gets replenished.”

He climbed out of bed and stood there for a few moments—staring at me, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. After a considerable amount of time had passed, he gave me a barely perceptible nod. “Prepare yourself.”

This time, the magical surge was even more intense—every cell in my body buzzed, vibrating at the same frequency as the Labyrinth’s power. My vision blurred, colors blended into one another, until I couldn’t see anymore. The loud hum in my ears stopped, and I realized I couldn’t hear either. I could only _feel_ until I lost consciousness.

\--

I could feel the sunlight stream onto my face as I awoke, my eyes widening immediately when I realized I wasn’t in my room. My body jolted up to a sitting position, until the memories of the night before flooded my mind.

 _Oh shit. Shit. Shit_. I’d been in Jareth’s room last night. Studying my surroundings with a frown on my face, I noticed that I wasn’t there anymore, but in the room he’d sifted us to the last time I was here. I jumped to my feet, relieved to find a thick woolen robe at the foot of the bed—at least I wouldn’t have to walk around the castle in almost see-through pajamas. Quickly making my way towards a heavy wooden door at the corner of the room, I tentatively opened it, peeking outside to figure out just where the hell I was…

…to find myself in the living area of Jareth’s apartments. _This was just fucking awesome._ Having never actually walked to Jareth’s apartments, I had no fucking clue where it was situated in the castle, and how I’d get back to my room.

I scurried towards the exit, hoping to sneak my way out. The irony of the situation didn’t escape me. It felt like I was walking the walk of shame without even having had sex! Edging closer towards the door, I placed my hand on the handle and pulled with all my might.

“Going somewhere?”

_Oh fuck._

Halting in my tracks, I slowly turned around to face Jareth. He was sitting by the fireplace at the other end—breakfast for two was laid out on a small table beside him.

“Good morning,” I said, cringing when my voice came out squeaky.

His dual eyes lighting with repressed laughter, Jareth grinned at me, clearly entertained by my discomfort. “Join me.” It wasn’t a request.

“Actually, I have to meet Daemora before she skewers me for ditching her yesterday. We need to choose the décor for the grand hall…you know, for the Goblin Feast,” I babbled. “If she’s left up to her own devices, your grand hall is going to look like an explosion of _every_ 1980s Madonna video—except with actual diamonds instead of rhinestones.”

Jareth’s grin only stretched wider. “Daemora can wait.” If he understood the Madonna reference, he didn’t show it.

I sighed—making my way towards the fireplace and plopping down next to him. I felt like a kid sitting in the principal’s office. “Could I have my clothes back?” I asked, feeling like an idiot…probably because I _sounded_ like one. “I’ll uh, put these back where I found them,” I mumbled, indicating the pajamas I was currently wearing.

A raised brow. “They’re yours now.”

“Uh, _no_ they’re not,” I answered. This conversation was getting ridiculous. “They’re too big.”

A slow chuckle. “Allow me to rephrase that _precious_ , you may do with them what you like—that includes disposing them if they’re not to your liking.”

I frowned. “You’re very liberal with dispersing some else’s clothes.”

“And _you_ were quite liberal in examining the contents of my wardrobe.” His voice was unmistakably derisive and his eyes gleamed with smugness.

 _Ugh. Conceited ass_.

It didn’t escape me that he wasn’t angry at the fact that I’d gone through his closet—as if he’d expected it of me. I felt a tiny bit of shame at the thought, even though I _knew_ I shouldn’t. The man could literally invade my head—I only looked through his _closet_.

“So,” I started, changing the subject, “Don’t you have a Silver Court session today?”

Jareth’s face returned to its impassive mask. “Tonight, the moon is in full phase, it is the night of the hunt.”

 _Right_ —the full phase. Tonight was also the night of replenishment.  

“Will you come with me to the Labyrinth instead of attending the hunt?” I asked, my eyes wide. There was a tremor in my voice, and my tone was needy enough to make me wince—but the thought of him not being there was far worse.

“Of course. I gave you my word that I would be with you.”

I let out a breath of relief that I didn’t realize I was holding.

Jareth’s expression turned somber. “Never doubt my word, Sarah.” His tone held an icy warning. “I will come and collect you before sunset.”

“You sure you don’t have to join the hunt—eat Rudolph’s heart or something?”

Jareth raised a brow, his gaze turning intense. “I fail to understand the reference.”

 _Oh great. He didn’t find my Rudolph joke funny_. “Rudolph is a sort of elk in my world. A fictional elk, not an actual one. Arges said the magic is centered at the heart.” _And that you eat it by ripping the elk’s chest with your teeth._ I kept the last bit to myself.

“The Demi General was wrong. Magic can be absorbed without ingestion.”

I shrugged. “Either way, I’d rather not know.”

His gaze turned calculating. “I have arranged for Iselin to join you for lunch tomorrow. I trust you to handle that situation well and report back to me.”

“ _Great_. My very first project in the art of manipulation.”

Jareth gave me an amused glance, but didn’t reply to that. “Come,” he said, standing up and extending a hand, “I shall sift you to your room. Do not exert yourself during the day.”

Taking his hand, I closed my eyes as icy wind tore through me. When I opened my eyes, I was back in my room.

“Oh and Sarah,” Jareth’s voice had a teasing edge, “I believe you forgot to visit Renya yesterday. She is quite… _irate_.”

I gaped at him, incredulous. “That was _your_ fault.”

A wicked grin. “I wouldn’t incur her wrath if I were you.”

Saying that, he sifted out of my room before I could throw something at him—the sound of his laughter resounded against my ears.

\--

After a quick bath, I headed to Renya’s workshop with Daemora, taking the Princess as a bodyguard of sorts. Fortunately, I hadn’t incurred the tiny seamstress’s wrath, but I _did_ get an earful about how unappreciative I was being towards her efforts. I could understand Renya’s eagerness to create my wardrobe—both, the Silver Lady and Daemora only ever wore simple Astar robes, so she never got a chance to work on more elaborate dresses.

“Sarah, we must head to the vault and pick out your jewelry,” Daemora insisted, grabbing my hand as if she was going to drag me there. “Cousin Jareth said I had to make sure you showcased the Kingdom’s wealth.”

 _Showcased the Kingdom’s wealth?_ That made me sound like a mannequin. Showcasing wealth meant wearing pounds upon pounds of shiny stones and metal—definitely not comfortable on my end. For some reason, Daemora seemed even more excited about my outfits than Renya and her enthusiasm was overwhelming at times.

“Daemora, I get the feeling you really seem to like jewelry,” I said, changing the subject.

“I adore jewelry,” the silver haired princess exclaimed, beaming. “I can spend _hours_ in the vaults.”

“So why don’t you wear some?” I asked, confused. The Kingdom’s vaults were filled to the brim, and she, being the _only heir_ should have access to them all.

Daemora grew quiet—I noticed that Renya, who’d been throwing all kinds of fabric at my direction, had suddenly disappeared. Perhaps I’d brought up a sensitive topic.

“Mother does not feel that Astar royalty should indulge in using crystals for ornamentation as they are powerful stores of magic.”

 _Oh_. “What about your clothes? Maybe Renya can work on your wardrobe?”

“She also feels it is best if the Astar royalty wears Astar robes,” the Princess replied, her eyes now wistfully looking over some of the fabrics that were spread out on Renya’s work table.

“Has she _seen_ the King’s outfits?” I asked with a snort. “I’ve _never_ seen him in Astar robes or tunics.”

This earned me a silvery laugh, the Princess’s eyes lightened up a little. “She said she attempted to force him to dress better when he was younger, but cousin Jareth never relented.”

I laughed with her—the thought of the Silver Lady trying to force Jareth to wear simpler clothes was hilarious.

“Renya,” came a new voice, a _sharp_ one and I felt a flash of icy wind, as if someone had just sifted near me. “My wardrobe for the Goblin Feast is absurd. I’m _not_ the King. Therefore, I’m _not_ prone to wearing outlandish and flashy clothing.”

I turned, surprised to see Rhaf, the man in the dark leather tunic from the night before standing next to me. He was carrying an embroidered jacket on one arm and a crystal studded jacket in the other. I suppressed a laugh—the crystal studded jacket looked even more ostentatious than what Jareth would wear.

“Lord Rhaf,” Daemora said chirpily, giving him a shallow bow. “Should I tell cousin Jareth you called his taste outlandish and flashy?”

“Hello Princess,” Rhaf replied, a smile prevalent in his voice. His iridescent eyes narrowed when he noticed me. “Defeater,” he said with the same curt nod he’d given me the night before.

“Lord Rhaf,” I replied, giving him a similar nod.

Daemora laughed, oblivious to the tension between us. “You annoyed him tremendously during the last session. Especially when you suggested he should reproduce with the High Priestess.”

“ _What_?” I couldn’t help but blurt. Good grief—maybe it _wasn’t_ good to be king.

Rhaf shot me an irritated look, his piercing gaze icy. “It is only logical that two beings with strong magic will produce a very powerful offspring.”

The silver haired Princess burst out laughing until she wheezed. “Cousin Jareth said if that’s how you feel, then perhaps _you_ should produce an offspring with her, for the sake of the Kingdom.”

Blanching a little at the princess’s words, Rhaf looked queasy for a split second. I guess the High Priestess scared them all, including the icy Rhaf.

“Lord Rhaf, I’m only following the King’s orders,” Renya said, coming out of hiding. She put on a stern expression as she stared him down. “Take it up with His Majesty.”

“I definitely will,” he all but snarled before turning to me, “Defeater, will you join us for the hunt?”

I raised my brows at the unexpected question. “No—I’ll be at the Irym.”

He looked pleased. “So the magic will run through you tonight,” he stated more than asked, as he lifted a hand and splayed his fingers. “I can already feel a trace of the Labyrinth on you.”

Biting cold wind enveloped me as I felt Rhaf’s magic ripple across my skin. Violent shivers ran down my spine and my teeth chattered.

“Lady Sarah is _human_ , Lord Rhaf.” I heard Daemora’s sharp command as she moved towards me and held my hand—her touch sending a jolt of warmth throughout my body, reminiscent of what Jareth had done earlier.

Daemora crossed her arms, and turned towards Rhaf, her eyes holding a touch of hostility. “You must keep in mind that Lady Sarah is human, Lord Rhaf. She is _not_ to be harmed.”

Rhaf’s frosty eyes were amused as he bowed low. “My apologies, _Lady Sarah_ ,” he made it a point to stress my name. “I do not know much of humans.”

Rhaf’s tone did not sound apologetic at all—even so, I nodded, accepting his apology. “No offence taken.” I turned to Daemora, “I concede, Princess, take me to the vaults.” _Anything to get the hell away from Rhaf_.

\--

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN— Sorry about the delay in updating. I’ve taken up a new marketing project (yay) so work’s keeping me busy (boo).
> 
> Next up—J and S and magic stuff at the Labyrinth— Iselin—a little more Astre maybe—brewing war—alliances. I’ve kept the background short on magic (though chapter 6 has some good points), so the Labyrinth’s magic, Jareth’s magic, or how magic works in general, may be confusing so feel free to ask questions. The next chapter focuses on the Labyrinth, so hopefully it’ll be clearer then. Jareth’s background should be clearer in the future, but not in the next chapter.
> 
> One of Jareth’s roles in this fic is to play instructor to Sarah, but I really hope he doesn’t come across as a teacher/professor—I’ve always found either roles to be really unsexy. For Jareth that is.
> 
> Regarding the term ‘dearest’ – I’ve only seen the first few episodes of Once Upon a Time (the kid was too annoying—he’d make a great birth control commercial) so didn’t know Rumpelstiltskin says ‘dearest.’
> 
> However, I think ‘Sarah dearest’ is the most perfect endearment for Jareth to use b/c he says it mockingly—he’s showing affection while being mocking at the same time.


	24. A Brittle Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the Labyrinth. I do not own the Beauty and the Beast either.
> 
> AN: Terribly sorry for the delay in updating. A new Menchie’s (fro-yo is ice cream in denial) has opened next to my place, and that means more gym time for me. Seriously though, this story has a hell of a lot of details that need to remain consistent along with a complicated plotline—I didn’t want to mess it up.

 

**\--**

Looking out of the massive windows that lined my room, I gazed out into the snowcapped mountains, gleaming in the pale daylight. I could feel my body tremble slightly, and I knew it wasn’t because of the cold air coming in from the open window—I was nervous. Gut wrenchingly nervous if I were to be honest with myself.

Cryen and Xia had helped me dress in a simple white dress, held up at the shoulders with familiar silver clasps—much like the dress I’d worn at the binding ceremony. Not surprisingly, they’d styled my hair in the same, thickly braided and coiled twist that managed to stay up without any pins. My gaze fell to my wrist, where I wore the bracelet Jareth had given me before the binding ceremony. Who knew whether this thin strip of metal would keep me protected, but after the torturous binding ceremony, I’d take _any_ protection I could get.

I knew Jareth had sifted into my room as an icy breeze caressed my back, making skin break out in goosebumps. _Yet_ , I didn’t turn around to face him, my nervousness suddenly morphing into full blown panic. _You’ll be alright, Williams, he’s promised to keep you safe_ , I said to myself, but my own voice sounded hollow in my mind.

“Your room is bright.” His rich voice held a hint of amusement as, I assumed, he was inspecting the various pieces of jewelry that lay scattered on my bed.

Keeping my eyes fixed on the mountaintops, I said, “Daemora has been living through me vicariously, since her mother won’t let her wear what she wants.”

“Ah yes, the Silver Lady has some preconceived notions about how Silver Bearers should present themselves.” His voice sounded nearer as he came up behind me—I could feel his piercing gaze even with my back turned.

Turning around to meet his eyes, I almost flinched as I saw his grim expression—the lines on Jareth’s face were drawn harshly, his dual eyes blazed with an emotion I couldn’t identify. “You’re wearing your armor,” I observed, my voice suddenly shaky as fear rippled through me once more. _Why was he in his armor?_

Jareth placed his gloved hands on my shoulders, his eyes intent on mine. “I will do everything in my power to keep you protected, Sarah.”

“I know,” I replied, my voice still shaky. “I…trust you.” I realized that I meant the words as I said them—maybe I was a fool, but I _did_ trust him.

His eyes darkened and his face turned harsher still. “Whatever happens, Sarah, you must promise to do exactly as I say.”

 _Promise to do exactly as I say_. What the fuck did that mean?

“Sarah?” The cold warning in his tone didn’t go unnoted.

“I don’t understand,” I said evenly, a tiny spark of anger burning through the haze of panic. The fact that he expected me to obey every cryptic command of his was infuriating.

He gave me a cold, penetrating look. “You will do _exactly_ as instructed, Sarah—without hesitating even once.”

It was the tone of his voice, that _unnerving_ , lethal calm, which made me concede to his command. “Okay.” _Like I had a choice, anyway_.

His thumbs caressed the bare skin on my shoulders as he sifted us out of my shiny room and into the Clearing. Miraculously, I didn’t so much as blink an eye when the icy wind tore through me—I was too preoccupied.  

\--

Jareth sifted us directly to the heart, and he situated me so that my back was flat against the hard stone surface of the Irym. The sky had turned into a strange combination of pale orange and purple, signaling the imminent sunset. The magnificent full moon, already visible in the twilight, looked like an enormous silvery orb that seemed so close that it was almost touchable. I stifled a laugh as I wondered whether it was the same moon I used to see back home— _of all the things to wonder_. Jareth touched my upper arm lightly, carrying me out of my thoughts.

“Sarah, you _must_ try and deflect harmful magic.” Jareth’s voice was low and quiet, as if he was a little nervous himself. The thought wasn’t comforting _at all_. He placed his hands on my shoulders and leaned into me, his body covering mine, as if he were my own personal shield. “Prepare yourself.”

That’s what the Head Priestess had said before the binding ceremony. _"Prepare yourself, mortal Sarah Williams, the power of the Labyrinth comes for you."_

I didn’t even have a second to be afraid as I felt the full magnitude of the Labyrinth’s magic crash into me. An intensely heavy weight bored down on me, almost flattening me into the ground, and I felt myself slip.

“Stand.” I heard Jareth’s cool command as he forcefully held up my shoulders. “You must remain standing.”

I tried answering him, telling him that I couldn’t bear it much longer—but my voice died in my throat, as if someone had just ripped out my vocal chords and nothing remained. _That’s_ when my body started to hum and I felt as if I was being pulled apart. As with the previous night, my vision blurred and colors blended into one another. My teeth rattled and my heart thudded riotously, as if seeking to break out of my chest.

“Look at me, Sarah.” There it was, another command—and as I had promised, I did as he asked, holding my head up with monumental effort. “Absorb and deflect.”

I _tried to_ —and I must have succeeded as the heavy force of the Labyrinth’s magic became slightly more tolerable. Right when I felt like I could survive this ordeal, the skies opened up and the rain fell down upon us in buckets. Thunder crashed among the clouds and lightening blazed against the darkening sky in vicious zig-zag patterns. My dress was drenched in a matter of seconds—the silky material clung onto my body like a second skin.

I let out a loud yelp as a bolt of lightning struck close to the Irym, leaving a massive burn mark on the grass. Ice cold fear erupted in my veins as another landed closer still, missing the Irym by a few inches.

Jareth, for his part, did not move. His face remained impassive as he looked into my eyes. “Deflect, Sarah.”

 _Deflect?_ As if I wasn’t trying! Hadn’t he been there during the binding ceremony when I felt as if I was being burned alive? The asshole made it sound as if it was so easy. I concentrated, with all my strength, to deflect the innumerable bolts of ligt that came down upon us…

…but the magic simply slammed into me, and my body, the willing vessel, was all too eager to absorb it. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run away—I struggled against his hold, but to no avail. My limbs were heavy with newly absorbed magic and my voice was still non-functional.

I opened my mouth in a silent scream as a bolt of lightning hurtled towards us—Jareth threw his body against mine, making sure he shielded every part of me. I braced myself, this one was going to hit us for sure—and it did, but Jareth’s body seemed to simply absorb it. What would have killed me, or, at the very least, given me severe burn marks, didn’t even make him _flinch_.

The Labyrinth’s magic vibrated even more intensely as Jareth absorbed more and more lightning bolts—sheer power flowed through his hands, into my body, as if he was a medium of sorts. I felt lightheaded by the magical high—a sudden burst of euphoria flowed through my veins.

The wind picked up, stronger than ever as it ripped through us. Even so, Jareth’s wild hair didn’t as much as quiver and even his cloak remained still. _Jesus_. Rhaf hadn’t been kidding when he’d said Jareth was the strongest in four millennia. The last time I’d taken in the Labyrinth’s magic, I’d struggled to stay alive every single moment. With him as my medium, I only _felt_ the pain, but didn’t sustain any injuries.

“This will be over soon, Sarah—stay with me.”

I gave him a barely perceptible nod as a reply and fought to sieve away harmful magic.

Fortunately, the rain stopped, as did the wind and lightning—it was suddenly very, very quiet.

“So…are we done here?” I asked, trying to shake myself free from Jareth’s vice like grip on my shoulders. I noticed that Jareth’s body emitted a strange glow, even _he_ had reached his threshold it seemed.

 “Jareth?” I asked again when he didn’t speak—he simply kept staring at me.

“Sarah,” he rumbled after a few seconds, his voice rough—his breathing becoming heavier. “Mortal Sarah Williams…” he said in that same gravelly hiss as he leaned into me.

“What’s going on?” I struggled harder now, still unable to free myself from his grasp. “Jareth, you’re scaring me.”

A razor sharp smile. “Am I, _Sarah dearest_?” Jareth didn’t give me a chance to reply as he crushed his mouth against mine.

I screamed as I felt his feral teeth rip into my lips as he tore his mouth through mine. His grip on my shoulders was now painful and I fought like a hellcat to free myself. Squashing down the sheer panic I felt, I bit down on his lower lip, _hard_.

Snarling like a wild animal, Jareth pulled away—I couldn’t help but scream as I looked at him. His eyes were liquid silver, and his hair had gone completely white. He bared his teeth in a ferocious smile, his eyes fixed on my lips, which were now bleeding.

“Jareth…” I whispered, crippling fear making my blood freeze as I trembled in his grasp. “Please stop.” Visions of my nightmare—the one in which he tore open my artery came to the forefront of my mind. _Had that been a warning?_

I felt his magic whirl around me. For a split second, his eyes became somewhat less fluid and his grip on my shoulders loosened. “Run, Sarah.” His voice was barely a whisper as he fought whatever was happening to him.

I stared at him, my fight or flight instincts disappearing completely. I seemed to be frozen.

“Now,” he roared—his eyes turning liquid silver once more.

Darting away from him, I ran away as fast as my legs could carry me—right into the dense green forest that surrounded the Clearing.

\--

I felt like I had been running for hours when I finally slowed down—the adrenaline combined with newly absorbed magic making it so that my body hadn’t collapsed by now. My heart hammered in my chest and my breath wheezed out of my lungs—my muscles _burned_ with built up lactic acid.

Looking at my dress, I let out a startled sob—the white robe was now completely ruined. There were scratches on my face and arms from some random branches or thorny vines. One of my slippers was missing—fortunately, I hadn’t injured my foot. The silver bracelet remained on my wrist.

 _You’re safe now, you’re safe_ , I kept repeating to myself over and over again, shuddering as I remembered the expression on Jareth’s face. I remembered what he’d said to me in his gallery. Violent shudders ran up my spine as I finally understood the true implications of his words.

_“Because I cannot stop myself, Sarah dearest,” he hissed. “I fear my desire will consume you…entirely.”_

I hadn’t even stopped for a few seconds as I felt the familiar hum of Jareth’s magic—a smooth ripple against my skin. _No. No. No. No, it couldn’t be_. I started hyperventilating—I didn’t know how, but I just _sensed_ him getting closer, probably because of his stupid fealty oath. At this rate he’d find me within minutes.

_“…my desire will consume you…”_

_Shit_ —every evolutionary instinct I had screamed at me to move. To run as far as I could—but my muscles had given up, I could barely walk, let alone run away from the most powerful being in four millennia. I wondered what would happen— _would he kill me?_

And just like that, the ground shifted beneath my feet and I screamed as I fell into a dark, black pit without a single ray of light.  

\--

_Breathe. Breathe. Breathe._

Although it was uncomfortable being in pitch blackness, I was relieved that there was enough space for me to stand up and walk a few steps—it was large and spacious for an oubliette. I couldn’t feel anything here—not the Labyrinth’s magical buzz, nor the abrasive hum of Jareth’s magic. I could smell nothing—not the earth, nor the dampness. _Absolutely nothing_. I was cocooned in space that was beyond anyone’s reach.

A sudden sense of relief washed over me and I let out a chocked sob. Seeing Jareth so… _feral_ had been devastatingly terrifying. I had trusted Jareth to keep me safe, and I had no doubt he would…against everyone but himself. The question remained, who the hell was going to keep me safe from _him_? I knew what the answer was and I didn’t like it.

 _What were my expectations of the Goblin King, anyway?_ He’d told me that he _needed_ me, and not that he _wanted_ me—those were to very different reasons for keeping me around. If everything went according to plan, there would come a time when he didn’t need me anymore. _What then?_

He’d said that he could send me back to my own world, and make it so as if I’d never left. But then again, he’d also said that he would _never_ let me go—so what the fuck did he want from me? I doubted even _he_ knew the exact answer to that question.

I took in a deep breath, grateful that my involuntary shivers had stopped—my body had sufficiently calmed down, the stomach churning fear slowly fading. Resting my back against the damp wall of the oubliette, I slid to the ground, completely exhausted. I fell asleep promptly with my head resting on my knees.

\--

“Lady Sarah…” I heard a melodic, soothing voice, “Lady Sarah, you must awaken.”

My eyes stung as I opened them slowly. Cool fingers caressed my forehead, as of someone were assessing my temperature—a cup was pressed against my throbbing lips.

“Drink.”

Wincing in pain, I tried raising my hands to hold the cup—it took a few tries. As my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room, I looked up to see Eires, Jareth’s official healer, smile down at me. “How did I get here?”

The calm smile remained on Eires’s face as she pushed the cup towards my lips. “Drink, Lady Sarah.”

I groaned as I tried getting up, every muscle in my body was on fire. “How did I get here?” I repeated, taking in my surroundings. I was in a long, rectangular room with a row of beds with stark white linen—the castle infirmary.

Eires gave me a pointed look, refusing to answer until I drank whatever was in the damned cup—so I did, albeit grudgingly. Fortunately strange drink was tolerable enough, her other concoctions had made me queasy in the past.

“His Majesty brought you here late last night,” the healer told me, her iridescent eyes studying me intently. “Your injuries were mostly superficial, so I thought to wait until you awakened. To ask for your… _permission_.”

Trust Eires to respect my right to consent—even though I had no rights here. I smiled at her politeness, wincing as my lips stretched across my face. _Damn, that hurt_.

 _He’d kissed me last night…hadn’t he?_ If you could call it that—it felt more like his mouth ripped through mine.

“Did he say anything?” I asked, trying my best to keep curiosity out of my voice. It didn’t escape me that he hadn’t healed me himself.

“No. He took flight right after.”

_Took flight?_

The image of a barn owl with massive wings came to the forefront of my mind. He’d ‘ _taken flight_ ’ right after I’d said those words to him all those years ago…

_“You have no power over me.”_

“Lady Sarah?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“May I heal you?” Eires extended a long fingered hand and touched my lower lip, her cool magic flowing into me as it healed my broken skin.

“Of course.” I shut my eyes, shuddering as I wondered what would have happened had Jareth caught me last night.

“Lady Sarah?”

My eyelids fluttered open as I snapped out of my thoughts upon hearing the familiar voice. _It couldn’t be…could it?_ My mouth fell wide open as I peered into pale green eyes. “General Arges, what are _you_ doing here?”

The Agean Demi General strode towards me, his eyes narrowing with anger with each step he took. He wore the customary Agean ivory jacket with brown tailored pants—his golden brown hair shined brightly in the pale morning sunlight. “You are injured.” His hoarse voice was clipped tight and his hands clenched into fists.

Eires stood in front of me, unsure what to make of the situation. “I am attending to Lady Sarah’s injuries, General, they are only superficial. I must say I am surprised to find you here—can I help you with anything?”

I couldn’t help but smile at Eires’s non-question. Hell, even _I_ was surprised to find him in the Goblin King’s _infirmary_ of all places.

Arges tilted his head, his chiseled face appearing more feline as he appraised the healer. “I was in a meeting with General Amer when one of the… _goblins_ ,” he said the word with mild disgust, “…decided to bite my arm for amusement’s sake. I was told I could be healed in the infirmary.”

It took months of training not to snort at that. Goblins were an unruly bunch and they weren’t particularly nice to those they found unfamiliar. The Demi General, in his ivory clothing with pale gold accents was most definitely unfamiliar.

“If you could grant us some privacy Demi General, I will attend to you once I have healed Lady Sarah,” Eires’s usually gentle tone took on a firm edge as she gestured that Arges was to wait in the outer chambers.

“It’s alright,” I said, just as Arges looked like he was going to turn around and leave. I knew the healing process for superficial injuries was a light procedure. “The General saved my life. I don’t require privacy for this—not from _him_ anyway.”

Eires gave me a sharp look but didn’t argue, I felt her cool healing magic envelope me, soothing my aching muscles. It felt like a warm tingling sensation passing through me from head to toe for a few seconds—I could feel the aches and pains diminish until they stopped existing entirely.

“Thank you, Eires,” I said, getting up from the bed, feeling completely renewed. “If you could bottle up your healing powers in the human realm, you’d make _millions_.” I grinned at her as she shook her head with mild amusement.

“General,” she murmured, taking Arges’s bitten arm—yikes, it looked as if a goblin had tried taking a chunk right off. She ran her delicate fingers over the jagged cuts, her eyes glassy as she concentrated her magic. “The venom has been neutralized. The cuts, however, will not heal fully until a week or so.”

 _Venom? Those little green monsters had venom as well?_ No wonder Amer said they’d come in handy during a war.

Arges nodded, “Thank you.” He turned to me, his eyes still narrowed. “Lady Sarah, would you walk me back to the Grand Hall?”

“Of course,” I replied. I knew why he was pissed, and I knew _just_ the strings to pull. Flashing him a wide smile, I walked over to the surprised Demi General and gave him a big hug. “I didn’t have the opportunity to thank you, General Arges, I’d like to do so now.”

Arges tensed in my embrace, his hard muscles coiling as if he didn’t know what to do. He just stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before hugging me back. “You don’t have thank me, Lady of the Labyrinth.”

I pulled back, looking into his too light eyes with a grateful expression on my face. “Regardless, thank you.” I took his arm. “Come, I’ll take you to the Grand Hall.”

\--

I lead the General down the hallway and grand stone staircase to the level below, noticing how his eyes scanned every decorative armor we passed. _A good soldier through and through_. “What brings you to the Goblin Kingdom, General Arges?” I asked, my hand still on his arm, a light smile on my face.

“The High Queen had matters to discuss with the Goblin King,” he replied after a pause. “The King seemed to be indisposed so I met with General Amer instead.”

I laughed, throwing my head back a little—I noticed the General’s eyes widen just a tad. _Perfect_. “I suppose your meeting was cut short by a goblin.”

He smiled back—his face turning more handsome by the second. If he was in the human world, the man would have _minted_ money as a model. “You could say that,” his smile disappeared and a somber expression overtook his handsome face. “I did not expect to find you there, so… _injured_. Not after Calestos…I never thought he would…” he let that thought drift off.

Looking at him with wide eyes, I made sure to look as vulnerable as I could. I knew what he was implying, and I didn’t bother to correct him. “It’s alright, General, Eires has healed me.”

“If you need anything, Lady Sarah, do not hesitate to call on me.” He stopped walking and turned towards me, his pale eyes intense.

I gave him a weak smile. “I would General—but this isn’t my world and I haven’t been taught how to communicate with those in other Kingdoms.” Which _was_ true—not that I’d specifically asked anyone, but that didn’t make my statement false.

His fingers tracing my newly healed lips, “He left a mark.”

Of course, Arges _had_ interrupted Eires as she was healing my lips, but I didn’t feel the need to tell him that. Parting my lips, I held his gaze—my eyes widening even more as Arges leaned into me.

“Here you are Demi General, I was beginning to think we had lost you.” Jareth’s icy voice rumbled against the walls, making me jump. I turned around to see him standing right at the entrance to the Grand Hall—he wore a tailored white shirt with form fitting, midnight blue pants. Yet… _something_ about his posture made him seem even more intimidating than when he wore his armor.

Arges turned slowly towards the Goblin King, his expression grim. “Your Highness,” he said with a bow—keeping up with protocol even though fury flared in his eyes. “I was at the infirmary as one of your _subjects_ sank its filthy teeth into my arm.”

An amused brow. “And you thought to take my mortal possession with you?”

 _Dear me, the Goblin King seemed pissed for some reason_ , I smiled to myself. If he was going to confuse the hell out of me with his behavior, I was going to pay him back. _Ten fold_.

“Your mortal possession was in the infirmary, Goblin King.” The General’s voice was hard, as was the expression in his eyes.

Jareth raised his eyebrows at that as he turned towards me—his face remained expressionless. “I took you to the infirmary much earlier, why were you not healed then?”

“Eires waited until she had my permission as the wounds were only superficial,” I replied, deliberately sounding a little shaky, a little afraid. A _helpless mortal_ in the clutches of the Goblin King.

Fire blazed in Arges’s too light eyes as he clenched his fists, his face lined with utter fury. “I thought you had changed Goblin King, I am disappointed to find that you haven’t.”

And just like that the hallway went eerily quiet—I felt a ripple of Jareth’s magic pulse against my skin. There was clearly a history between the two of them I didn’t understand, and I’d just unleashed it. This was fucking _great_ , my brilliant plan had all but backfired.

“You are in my castle, Demi General,” Jareth’s voice was deceptively quiet. “Perhaps it is best for you to keep your assessments to yourself.”

Arges didn’t back off, in fact he did the exact opposite—he took a step towards Jareth. Instinctively, I held his wrist, breathing a sigh of relief when he stopped. I had no doubt Jareth was capable of obliterating Arges with his magic, and I didn’t want to be the cause of it.

But the Demi General wasn’t dissuaded from engaging the Goblin King. “I’m not surprised. This is not the first mortal born you’ve toyed with—I suppose I am grateful I didn’t have to _bury_ this one. It seems as if your appetite has become less intense.”

Jareth’s magic roared, his dual eyes glittered with rage. _Oh fuck_. I hadn’t meant for things to get this far. _Still_ , I couldn’t help but wonder who the other mortal, or ‘mortal born,’ whatever that meant, was. It couldn’t the Agean from the last Court session. No…Arges’s anger was too intense. It _had_ have been someone close to him.

Jareth grinned, his jagged teeth on display, making me tremble involuntarily—the memories of last night were too fresh in my mind. “ _General_ ,” he said in the same quiet voice, stressing Arges’s rank, “If _this_ mortal were to die, it would be within _my_ power to bury her…or leave her body for the vultures, not yours.”

 _Good fucking God_. I gaped at Jareth, shivering as his words reverberated against my ears, my fingers gripped Arges’s wrist as I prayed he wouldn’t react. I could feel him tense—as if ready to explode any second.

Fortunately, Amer sifted into the corridor right at that moment, and I let out a breath in relief. “General,” Amer’s voice boomed as he moved into the space between them, “Your Highness. We’ve agreed on a brittle alliance, let’s not break it.” His amber eyes glowed as he looked at Arges, “If you do not let go of the past, Demi General, you must, at the very least, put it aside if you wish to be our ally.”

Jareth’s magic died down and Arges unclenched his fists— _Amer to the rescue_. I couldn’t help but tremble with relief.

“Lady Sarah.” Arges’s voice was gentle.

I looked at him, turning a bright shade of red when I realized I was still holding onto his wrist. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, releasing him immediately. All three pairs of eyes were fixated on me, and my blush deepened even more.

Thankfully, Amer came to my rescue— _again_. “Lady Sarah, I have a problem you could help me with. Are you free at the moment? The Demi General and His Majesty have some matters to discuss-”

“Of course,” I interrupted before he finished the sentence, readily grabbing his hand before he even extended it. “I shall see you at the Goblin Feast, General Arges,” I said with a smile before turning back to Amer. “Sift us away General.”

Flashing me the slyest of smiles, he did. I made it a point _not_ to look at Jareth as we sifted away in a blaze of fire.

\--

Amer sifted us to a large living area that was decorated in jewel tones. Various trinkets of gold adorned the shelves and a beautifully intricate carpet covered the floor.

“Where are we?” I asked, my eyes taking in everything—this room certainly didn’t look like it belonged at King’s Castle.

Giving me a rakish grin, Amer strode over to the plush sofa—far plushier than any furniture I’d seen at the austere castle, and sat down. “You caused a great deal of trouble this morning, Lady Sarah,” he said, his tone humorous in spite of his words.

I had the good grace to blush as I sat down across from him. “I didn’t expect to find Arges in the infirmary of all places.”

He laughed, his amber eyes turning into twin flames. “No, but I suppose you made the most of it.”

“Jareth had it coming—he put me in the infirmary without so much of an explanation as to _what_ _the fuck_ happened to him at the Irym.”

“I suppose he did,” the General agreed, much to my surprise. “From what he told me, his magic turned unstable and he lost control, but the Labyrinth kept you safe…” he motioned at me to listen when I opened my mouth to argue with him, “…it allowed him access to you when he had sufficiently calmed down. That’s when the King brought you to Eires-”

“And took flight,” I cut in wryly with a roll of my eyes. “I suppose you won’t tell me what happened between Jareth and Arges.”

Amer shook his head, his expression now somber. “You suppose correctly,” he said, raising a hand when I jumped up to argue. “You must discuss these matters with the King, Lady Sarah—though, I suppose the Demi General will tell you his version quite readily. You must realize that there are two sides to every story.”

I thought about that for a few moments. “I’m not an idiot—from today’s conversation, I could figure out that Arges holds Jareth responsible for someone’s death. For him to have been so angry, it must have been someone close to him.” No wonder Calestos had been surprised when Arges had helped the Goblin King find his _prized possession_. Except…he hadn’t agreed to help Jareth at all, he had agreed to help _me_. I wondered what to make of that.

“Take this,” Amer said, thrusting a crystal goblet filled with clear liquid in my hand, snapping me out of my thoughts. “For your nerves. You must have been quite shaken up last night.” He took a sip from his goblet.

Raising my brows, I took a tentative sip—immediately coughing as the licorice taste of the alcohol overwhelmed my taste buds. If Jareth’s drinks were strong, this was battery acid. “What the hell is this?”

“We call it raq,” Amer replied, his eyes twinkling at my reaction. “You must gulp it down.”

I gaped at him. “It’s not even lunch time yet—I can’t drink this.”

He laughed his loud booming laugh. “I’ll gulp mine as well to keep you company, shall we?”

This made my mouth fall wide open. I’d only _ever_ seen Amer drink twice—and he’d never exceeded a glass of wine. “Fine,” I conceded, raising the goblet to my lips. “One, two, three, go!”

The liquid must have burned a hole in my esophagus all the way to my stomach—my stomach heaved, but I was able to keep the contents inside.

Amer chuckled. “Would you like another, Lady Sarah?”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked, incredulous—my body felt warm as the alcohol hit my bloodstream. _Damn, that drink was strong_. “You _barely_ drink alcohol and when you do, you drink _that_? Jesus.”

He only chuckled as he refilled the goblets. “The occasion calls for it. The Demi General has agreed to side with us in the upcoming war. I believe we have _you_ to thank for that.”

I frowned. “I wouldn’t count on it—he doesn’t seem to like Jareth very much.”

“Yes, but he hates Deimos more. Moreover, he seems to have found a… _kindred_ mortal spirit in you, Lady Sarah.” I could feel his eyes studying me. “I would, however, suggest that you keep a _wise_ distance from the High Queen’s most ardent defender and pet General.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Ceres and Arges?”

Amer gave me a smile that was almost bitter, an emotion I’d never witnessed in him before. “Things aren’t what they seem, are they?”

 _“Things aren’t what they seem.”_ They should make that the damned motto of the entire Underground.

“To the new alliance.” I raised my goblet, smiling as Amer did the same. “One, two, three, go!” This time, it went down significantly smoother than before.

“Tell me, Lady Sarah,” the General said, suddenly serious, “Do mortals in the human realm count aloud before they consume alcohol.”

I laughed. “No—just a habit when I take shots.”

The General was even more confused. “Shots?”

“Gulping down alcohol like we just did.” I was buzzing slightly more now—two goblets of raq were clearly all I could handle. I felt like I’d consumed the equivalent of an entire bottle of wine. _In all but two seconds._

Amer, too, seemed to be slightly buzzed. His generally sharp eyes were hazy and he had a silly smile on his face. “Come, Lady Sarah, I shall sift you to the White Room for lunch.”

 _White Room_? “I thought the Silver Court session was over?” I said, a question in my voice.

 _Holy fucking shit!_ I suddenly remembered that I was supposed to grill Iselin over lunch today. I had to be a conniving, scheming person—not a drunken fool! _Stupid, Williams, very stupid._

“I see you’ve remembered your meeting with the Nastrondisian,” the General said with a snicker—which made me laugh once again. The idea of such a fierce Ifrit warrior snickering was unbelievable.

It took the General two tries to sift me into the so called White Room. _Yep, the great General was buzzed alright._

\--

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sarah has learned how to play well, hasn’t she? This chapter’s the calm before the storm. Next chapter’s going to be called Masochism.
> 
> Fun fact—Iselin’s name was supposed to be Izea [I like to make up names instead of using real ones] but I had listened to Alan Walker’s Faded so many times last summer [esp when writing this] that I unconsciously named the Nastrondisian princess Iselin. [Iselin Solheim sings the song]. It’s a good song for this fic—when writing this chapter, I had the song ‘Shut Up and Dance’ stuck in my head—not a good song for serious writing.
> 
> Again, apologies for the delay. A few more weeks and I should be done with my project! Yay, more writing time! I had to hire auditors of all people and I found the most enthusiastic 21 year old kid who wears skinny jeans and those ridiculous, round Prada frames. He has this 1980s style Flock of Seagulls type hairstyle that I find hilarious. Never met an enthusiastic accountant before so I was pleasantly surprised. Oh millennials. Taking on practical jobs with your post hipster outfits and avid enthusiasm.
> 
> I have had tons of fun reading everyone else’s works :)
> 
> Q: (variations of) Why does Jareth allow Sarah to disrespect him?
> 
> A: While Jareth isn’t prince charming, he’s not a mid-level management douche who retaliates for every [perceived] insult. Nor does he have a micro penis [not that he has an elephant’s trunk sized abnormal penis either]. Basically—he’s not some insecure idiot whose widdle feelings get hurt every time Sarah [supposedly] insults him.
> 
> Also—uh, when’s Sarah ‘disrespectful’ to begin with? Jareth could stand to be a bit nicer, at least include her more, couldn’t he? He’s got to learn that good management = getting people to like you more than they fear you.


	25. Masochism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the Labyrinth. I do not own the Beauty and the Beast either.
> 
> AN: I know I have a few readers from the UK and I am…so saddened and shocked about the Ariana Grande concert. Hope you guys and your family members are safe. I checked with every single relative and friend (too old for Ariana Grande, as it seems) and they’re safe.
> 
> Credit to Anneige—Delirious is a perfect song for this chapter.

 

**\--**

By the time Iselin had arrived, I had sobered down considerably. We said our awkward hellos, and she sat down, choosing to stick to irrelevant small talk instead of getting to the point. Being new at this game, I didn’t quite know how to begin the conversation I was supposed to conduct. It had been much easier to manipulate General Arges than Iselin.

She sat across from me, her usually cold gray eyes seemed nervous. Perhaps I imagined it, but her hands shook as she held her cutlery. _This was getting ridiculous_ —I stabbed my salad angrily. Just as I was wracking my brain to think of something to say, the Nastrondisian Princess looked at me and raised a cool eyebrow.

“You’re eating leaves?” she asked in her low, throaty voice—breaking the tension that had accumulated around us.

I laughed. Trust _her_ to notice something unusual about my dietary choices and blurt out a question. “You would too if you had my wardrobe for the Goblin Feast,” I replied, a smile on my face. That was true enough—I’d cut out dairy products and breads from my meals as Renya’s dresses had become gauzier and sleeker as she refined her designs. She’d also taken some of my shoes and created some new ones that’d make Jimmy Choo eat his heart out.

Iselin didn’t seem to register my answer as she smiled vaguely, her eyes hazy, as if lost in her own thoughts.

“Princess Iselin?”

She looked back at me, startled for a few moments. “Defeater,” she began, her voice hesitant. Her entire body tensed as she clenched her fork in her hand. “I…I shouldn’t be here.”

Instinctively, I understood that I needed Iselin to calm the fuck down or this conversation wouldn’t go anywhere. She was beginning to panic.

I smiled reassuringly before reaching across the table and placing my hand on hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Something drastic must have happened in Nastrondis for you to have come here, Princess,” I spoke in a coaxing tone—much like the tone Jareth used with me when he wanted something. I knew I had to deflect attention back to her own land, a land where she was clearly unhappy and felt unsafe.

Iselin’s couldn’t mask her confusion. “Things have become unbearable lately…Astre…she’s not an easy cousin to have,” she looked away, pausing uncomfortably. “But the Goblin King-”

“You’re not speaking to the Goblin King, Princess, you’re speaking to me,” I interrupted, making sure to keep my voice soft. _Me—Sarah Williams, the weak little human possession of the Goblin King who had no power to harm anyone, let alone a princess_. “I won’t judge you,” I added, the smile still glued to my face. _Ha._

Iselin looked even more hesitant. “I suppose…”

Wondering how I should play my next move, I scrutinized her expression—her eyes were wide, and her breaths shallow, her lower lips trembled just a little. All in all, she seemed _terrified_. I doubted she would spill any Nastrondisian secrets at the moment, so I decided to ask her a question of my own. “Would you tell me something, Princess…?”

She looked at me sharply, her eyes frosty once again, and her expression wary.

Giving her hand another reassuring squeeze, I continued, “It’s nothing complicated. I was wondering if you had the chance to see the Aviary at the Marble Palace.” That’s where Astre had told me she was eating dinner the night at the Mosaic Hall—incidentally, also where Calestos found me when I went for my run. A small frown furrowed my brows as I wondered whether I would have entered the Aviary had Astre not mentioned it the night before…

A raised a brow—Iselin clearly hadn’t been expecting _that_ question. “No, I not too fond of birds.”

“Neither am I,” I lied, stifling a laugh—I suppose that was one more reason for her to fear Jareth. Truth was, I didn’t care about birds either way, but I needed a common ground. No matter how silly it was.

Her eyes softened a tad. “That’s where you were taken by Calestos, weren’t you?”

My heartrate spiked by reflex, as memories of my time in the below ground, Agean temple played through my head. “Yes,” I agreed, “I guess I dislike birds even more now.”

Iselin laughed at that—her posture now significantly more relaxed. She eyed me intently for a few moments as if calculating what to say. “I wasn’t there, but I heard Jareth killed him quite brutally. Deimos was furious. I suppose, the Goblin King must really… _value_ you.”

 _Value me indeed_. That was one way of putting it. I gave her a tight lipped smile, knowing I had to praise Jareth so that she’d see him as something other than a creature from her nightmares. “He’s a better King than Deimos, Iselin—I’m sure you already realize that.”

She didn’t reply immediately as her gaze drifted off to the tapestries on the wall before returning to mine. “I suppose so.” Although her words weren’t very convincing, her tone was resolute. _Perfect_.

Now that my question regarding Aviary had been answered, I moved onto a topic I had become increasingly curious about.  “What do you know of General Arges, Princess?”

“He is known for being extremely loyal to the High Queen,” she said with a shrug, a questioning expression on her face.

That part I already knew. “What of him and the Goblin King?”

Comprehension dawned in her eyes—she knew the _particular_ piece of information I was fishing for. “The rumors vary, but about a century and a half earlier, Jareth and Deimos were… _inseparable_.”

“What!?” I couldn’t help but blurt out, my mouth wide open. _Jareth and Deimos_?

“Well, them and my _perfect cousin_ ,” she added with a harsh laugh. “What do you know of the Demi Soldiers, Defeater?”

 _Not much_ —my history lessons with Daemora hadn’t really covered Demi Soldiers. “That they’re part mortal…that’s about it.”

“The Demi are mortal mixed Ageans who are known to breed faster than the rest of us. They make up most of the Agean Army…the _men_ do, anyway. Some women become soldiers as well, but that’s rare. Their lives aren’t easy—some become part of the domestic staff in noble houses, some learn the arts of pleasure, some leave Agea for other lands.” Iselin paused, as if considering how she should word her next sentence. “Some walk into the Turquoise Sea.”

I took in a sharp breath. “They choose to die?”

Iselin shook her head, no. “They transform into the Daughters of the Sea—mostly in the seas around Agea, but some venture as far as the coast of Gaelia.”

“Daughters of the Sea?” I repeated, frowning as I tried making sense of what she was saying. Did she mean mermaids? Were they one of the creatures Arges had warned me about before I jumped into the water?

“They adapt to marine life,” she explained, “They’re quite dangerous to those who enter the seas, but sometimes they are caught for sport or pleasure.”

As curious as I was about the mermaids, I was far more curious about the Demi General. “What does this have to do with Arges?”

Iselin fidgeted with her fork. “Deimos took an interest in one of the Demi girls…”

 _Ah_. The story was beginning to make sense. “A girl Arges was in love with?”

She nodded. “Yes, he was quite young then. What happened next… _varies_ from person to person. Many believe that Deimos asked Jareth to use a compulsion spell on the woman, so that she wished a child to the Goblins.”

Blood roared in my ears. “Whose child?”

The Princess gave me a nonchalant shrug, as if she wasn’t really concerned about the child. “Just some Demi child—they have lots of children in their military camps.”

I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat. “What did Jareth do?”

Iselin hesitated before answering. “Rumors say he terrified her so that she forfeited the Labyrinth’s challenge.”

 _Jesus_. This was before he’d started handing over forfeiters to the Bone Priestesses. “What happened next?”

“I only know bits and pieces of what Astre told me, but the girl’s dream was to be a Daughter of the Sea and the Goblin King _allowed_ it to happen given that she’d return with him. He took her to a lake deep within the Labyrinth and deposited her there soon afterwards.”

 _Fuck. No wonder Arges hated Jareth_. Keeping my emotions tightly under control, I took in a shaky breath. “What did Arges do?”

“Arges traveled through the veils and fought a legion of goblins. He demanded that the Goblin King release the girl…which Jareth did, in a manner of speaking.”

I paled, knowing that ‘in a manner of speaking’ meant he’d released her body. “How do you know all of this, Princess?”

“Astre was there—she was very close to Jareth at that point. I remember all the rumors going around the Nastrondisian Court that Dagir refused to marry her until Uncle Oren promised to give him the throne.”

My chest tightened with guilt when I thought of the events that occurred this morning. I’d manipulated Arges into thinking Jareth was playing some sadistic game with me—it must have brought back painful memories.

Iselin’s gray eyes studied the emotions that must have clearly shown on my face. “I’m sorry if knowing this has made things difficult for you.” Her voice was soft and her expression gentle—she meant what she was saying.

I shook my head. “Jareth has changed, Iselin.” I tried keeping my voice steady, trying to believe my own words.

“I believe you, Defeater,” she paused, and I sensed a ‘but’ coming, “but _everything_ I know about him…”

“Is probably exaggerated,” I finished for her.

“Perhaps you are correct.”

“I want you to _think_ carefully before committing to helping us, Iselin,” I said, using a reassuring technique—letting her know she had a choice. “But consider who you would rather win this imminent war, Jareth or Deimos?”

Iselin didn’t blink. “Jareth,” she replied almost immediately.

I smiled at her, wincing as I pulled a muscle in my jaw. My whole damned face ached as I’d smiled a thousand times during lunch. “Then gather some information for us and report back during the Goblin Feast. We’ll keep you safe.” _If you manage not to get caught_ , I added silently to myself.

The Princess looked away for a few moments before turning back to me. Her eyes weren’t nervous anymore—they held icy determination instead. “I’ll do everything I can.”

\--

I stepped into my room, choosing to change into my pajamas by the fire instead of the freezing cold bathroom. Unfortunately, there was no magic hairdryer in the Underground and that meant I had to towel dry my hair thoroughly _and_ wait for it to dry before heading to bed. The conversation I’d had with Iselin was still fresh on my mind as I brushed my hair.

It had been a long, _long_ day indeed. Right after lunch I had resumed my practice sessions with Daemora and we’d practiced my ability to deflect and shield, right until dinner. Neither Jareth nor Amer had been present for dinner and I had been able to eat in peace. Still, I knew I’d eventually have to face Jareth and it wouldn’t be pleasant—not with all the stories I’d heard from Iselin.

Just as I was about to change into my pajamas, I heard the faintest of music playing in the background, disrupting me from my troubled thoughts. My curiosity piqued instantly—I’d _never_ heard music in the halls of King’s Castle before. Hell, I hadn’t even seen a single instrument displayed in the halls or various sitting rooms throughout the castle. So where the hell was the melody coming from?

I found myself swaying to the slow beat, humming along, as if I already knew the notes. The melody was deep and melancholic, but also intense and consuming. All my anxieties, every _single_ worry in my mind, just faded away into nothingness. The day’s events were insignificant, so were the terrible things that Jareth had done— _nothing else was important_. The only thing that remained was the beautiful music.

So beautiful…painfully exquisite…I laughed…all my problems seemingly erased… _everything_ would be alright.

I could feel tears stream down my face as I moved towards the door that lead to the corridor, I needed to get closer to the source. It didn’t matter that I only wore a thin bathrobe, or that my feet were bare—I knew I had to get to the source or else I’d surely die.

And like a moth to a flame, I moved towards the haunting tune.

\--

“Sarah.”

_Sarah—Sa-rah. That’s my name, isn’t it? Why does he keep saying it?_

_I make my way down the various stone hallways and corridors. The music is louder now—loud enough that my ears hurt, but I don’t care—it’s such a blissfully painful sensation._

“Sarah, stop immediately!”

 _I laugh—silly Jareth—why would I stop? Why_ should _I stop, for that matter?_

_The melody takes my pain away. Every scrambled thought in my head feels like it’s unwinding and evaporating—leaving me joyously empty. My bare feet take step upon step on the cold, stone floor—my thin bathrobe is unable to keep my human body warm and violent shivers run down my spine. But even as my body trembles, I cannot sense the bitter coldness. The music keeps me safe._

“Sarah! I order you to stop.”

_I laugh even louder—but the music drowns out my voice. Who is he to order me anyway? He sounds so desperate—I laugh some more at the thought. Still, my feet do not stop, and I don’t turn around to look at him. I need the music, I need to feel it vibrate against my very bones._

_“_ Sarah!” _He roars into my ears and holds me by the shoulders—shaking me violently until my teeth rattle._

_Just like that, the music disappears and a sudden blast of utter coldness hits me, freezing me to my very core. Strong arms wrap around me as icy wind flares—sifting us away._

\--

“Sarah.” Jareth’s forbidding voice surrounded me.

“Jareth?” I managed to squeak between the violent shivers that rand own my spine. _I felt so damn cold_. The tips of my ears and nose felt like they had turned into solid ice. Fortunately, Jareth had sifted me right next to a roaring fire, so my body warmed almost immediately.

He stared at me, his eyes dispassionate, until my shivers died down. Once the shock wore off, my legs gave out and I fell onto the floor—still confused as to where the hell I was.

“Does the urge remain?”

I frowned— _urge_? _What the hell had happened?_ “What do you mean?” Looking around, I noticed I was in his study—he’d placed me on the rug, right by the fireplace. Stars twinkled in the dark, new moon sky—feathery snowflakes were falling upon the crystal ceiling.

“The urge to follow your… _compulsion_ ,” Jareth clarified, eyeing me with the acute scrutiny of a hawk. He stood a few feet away from me, his arms crossed.

 _My compulsion_? I looked at myself—grimacing a little when I noticed I was wearing nothing but a bathrobe. I didn’t even have any shoes on. “What do you mean?” I repeated, my brows furrowed in confusion.

A harsh sigh. “ _Focus_ , Sarah—I sensed a powerful compulsion spell and found you wondering the hallways.”

“I…” my gaze drifted into the roaring fire, and I huddled just a little bit closer, trying to stave off the cold which I could feel right to my bones. “I heard the most beautiful melody I’d ever heard…I was so… _happy_ , so sad, every emotion I’d ever felt came up to the surface and I just had to get closer. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“ _Precious thing_ ,” he said, a hint of resignation in his voice as he sauntered over to an arm chair and sat down, his movements graceful. “What am I going to do with you?”

I looked up at him, my eyes wide. “Is _that_ what compulsion feels like?”

A deep look. “Yes.” I noticed that he wore a pair of form fitting black pants and a black leather jacket that looked informal—I couldn’t help but wonder where he’d been for dinner.

“How did you find me?”

Jareth’s dual eyes darkened just a little. “This is my castle, Sarah. It is not difficult for me to sense magic that takes place here—especially a spell as strong as the one placed on you. I found you on the way to the inner door.”

Considering that I’d only ever walked through three levels of the sprawling castle, I had no idea where the inner door was located. “Where’s that?”

“The inner door is the first exist out of King’s Castle—there are two others, after which you can exit the castle through the main entrance. I believe someone was trying to lure you out.”

I let out a short laugh at that, “I’d die of hypothermia in a matter of minutes.”

His expression turned grim. “I doubt they know enough about human physiology to realize that.”

“In that case, _they_ would be exceptionally stupid if they didn’t think you’d stop them.”

Jareth smiled a slow smile. “ _They_ probably did not anticipate my return to the castle tonight.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask ‘why not?’ but I refrained. None of my business—there were more important matters at hand to discuss. “You seem to know _exactly_ who this person is, Jareth.” I eyed him intently, knowing he’d never answer a direct question. “Just like you seem to know who sent me the nightmare in Agea.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Jareth’s tone indicated that there was no room for arguments.

 _Fuck that_. “That’s what you said when I had the nightmare. Didn’t pan out that way, did it?”

Sitting up abruptly, Jareth held my gaze. “Do you _truly_ wish to know, _Sa-rah_?” His face was hard, like it was made of marble—yet there was a hint of anger just under the surface.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Answer the question, Sarah. Do you truly wish to know? Do you believe you have something to gain from this… _knowledge_? That it would help you somehow?”

 _What could I say to that_? “I don’t know whether it’ll help or _how_ it’ll help,” I answered, choosing my words carefully, “But I really do want to know who has it in for me.”

He studied me in cold silence for a few moments. “I believe it was Beina Nae.”

My mouth fell open and my heartrate skyrocketed. “Well then, I’m fucked for sure. It was nice knowing you.”

Jareth didn’t smile at my words—fury blazed in his dual gaze. “Oh, the Head Priestess and I will exchange some words over this. Be assured that she will _not_ try anything similar in the future.”

 _Right._  I raised a brow. “That’s what you said the last time—how can you know for sure?”

Jareth barked a laugh, the sound startling me a little, making me jump. “I’ll place wards against her magic within you. I will make it clear, in no uncertain terms, that I shall place her at the heart of the Labyrinth, allowing it to swallow her whole, should she try… _interfering_ …with you again.”

I trembled at the imagery—the fact that he could command the Labyrinth to _swallow_ anyone at will was unnerving. This gave me the perfect opening for the other topic I wanted to broach. “Infighting during war is not a good strategy, Jareth—whether it’s the Head Priestess or the Demi General.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Jareth replied with a toothy smile. “I find your concern for the General quite touching, _precious thing_. Since you are awake and I happen to be unoccupied at the moment, should we discuss what happened with Iselin during lunch?”

I kept my gaze steady, not making a move to get up from the floor. “I’m guessing you saw us through your crystals, Jareth. You already what happened.”

A cruel smile and a glint of teeth. “Perhaps I’d rather hear a firsthand account from your lips, _Sarah dearest_. Permit me the joy of hearing your lovely voice.”

I gritted my teeth and decided to be as blunt as possible. “She agreed to spy on Astre and Oren. She most definitely wants _you_ to win the war and not Deimos.”

He didn’t as much as blink as he took this in. “Is that all?”

“She said she never went to the Aviary at the Marble Palace…and that you killed a Demi girl Arges was in love with.” My face felt warm, but I was grateful that my voice did not waver. General Amer had been correct, the best way to address uncomfortable subjects _was_ to confront them head on.

Jareth’s gaze sharpened. “Did she say exactly those words?” Icy threat laced his deadly calm voice.

I sighed—I didn’t know how much of our conversation he’d heard, but I didn’t want Iselin on his bad side. “No. She said the girl was already dead by the time Arges arrived to claim her. That you let him claim the body.”

Jareth looked into the fire. I could see his knuckles turn white as he held onto the arms of the chair.

Feeling equal measures of curiosity and dread, I pushed him for more information. “I never thought there was a time when you were at Deimos’s beck and call.”

He didn’t turn towards me. “There wasn’t.”

I pushed on. “Calestos seemed surprised you’d somehow gotten Arges to help you find your possession. He said as much, right before plunging his knife into my chest—I just never thought backstory would be something this _drastic_.”

Tilting his head, Jareth assessed me, an unknown emotion flickering in his eyes—I couldn’t make out what. “Anything else I should know regarding Iselin?” It didn’t escape me that he’d changed the subject. I guess I wouldn’t hear his side of the story tonight.

“Just about. Oh, and she also said she didn’t like birds.”

A slow smile and a flash of teeth. “That piece of information may be useful in the future, _precious thing_.”

I swallowed—“Will you use it against her?”

Jareth’s rich laughter vibrated against the cold stone walls as he took in my guilty expression. “Do not fear for Iselin, _dearest_ ,” he drawled. “I will not harm her. It is, however, only prudent that we note all of her… _weaknesses_.”

 _Weaknesses_. Shivering involuntarily, I nodded.

He eyed me acutely for a few moments. “What do you make of the Demi General, Sarah?”

My eyebrows shot up—I hadn’t expected _that_. I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. “He’s like a hero in a Greek play. Strong and righteous but also flawed.” _Dramatic, Williams_ , really _dramatic_.

A dark chuckle. “Much like yourself, _precious_ Sarah.” It was a statement, not a question.

I laughed harshly at his declaration. “I was a spoiled child who fucked my life up forever by wishing Toby away. I’m hardly a _hero_.”

“So bitter, my heroine. So eager to put the Demi General on a pedestal,” Jareth rumbled, still chuckling with cruel amusement.

I took the bait and bristled, my anger getting the best of me. “I know he couldn’t possibly have climbed up Agea’s military ranks by being some _perfect_ hero, Jareth. He’s probably capable of doing many things that I would find absolutely horrific. Just nothing to _your_ extent.”

That put an end to Jareth’s laughter. “You’ve been asking Amer some questions, I see.”

“I’m learning to _accept_ the reality I’m in,” I replied, suddenly exhausted. I simply wanted to crawl into bed and fall into a dreamless sleep. “Could you sift me to my room, now?”

Shifting in the armchair, Jareth raised an amused brow. He didn’t pay the least bit of attention to my request. Instead, he kept evaluating me with his intense gaze, as if studying my every reaction. “You played the victim today, _dearest…_ and you played it quite well.” He added the latter half as an afterthought.

I shrugged. “Assuming that one of the reasons Arges allied himself with you is his concern for _me_ , my _victim act_ ended in your favor, didn’t it?”

Jareth laughed, a deliberately slow, cruel laugh. His eyes grew cold. “My precious, _precious_ thing—you’ve adapted marvelously. I never imagined you, my _perfect heroine_ , to be cruel enough to taunt the Demi General in such a manner.”

I gaped at him as my temper flared at the sheer condescension in his voice. “ _I_ was cruel? If I had known that you forced his…that Demi girl to wish away a child and then _killed_ her once she forfeited, I would _never_ have put him in that position.”

The room went deathly quiet—I couldn’t hear anything, not even the crackling fire. I _felt_ Jareth’s magic slither along my skin.

“Jareth…?” I whispered. Adrenaline started pumping in my veins, preparing me for ‘fight or flight.’

Hearing his name from my lips seemed to undo him. Eyes flashing dangerously, he closed the distance between us. One second he was lounging back on the armchair and the next, he was kneeling on the floor, holding my shoulders roughly. “Do you have _any_ understanding of what can happen if I lose control, _Sarah_?”

“Yes. I remember running the fuck away from you just last night, or have you forgotten?” _I, too, could answer a question with another one._

He bared his jagged teeth, his magic pulsing against my skin—vibrating through the thin material of my robe. “Then why do you tempt fate, Sarah? Are you a masochist?” His grip on my shoulders tightened as he pulled my body closer to his.

I smiled in spite of the sudden rush of fear and arousal I felt at his closeness—the smell of leather and pinecones made me lightheaded. “Where _you’re_ concerned, Jareth? I’m the fucking _queen_ of masochism.”

I’d expected a sarcastic comeback, or a derisive laugh. Surprisingly, Jareth looked almost _shaken_. His grip loosened and his breath came out in a sigh. “I could have killed you,” he whispered, his voice so low, I barely heard him. He closed his eyes, leaning in until his forehead touched mine.

I breathed in his scent—this was the most vulnerable I’d ever seen the Goblin King. I could either laugh off his concern, or I could ease his fears. For reasons I didn’t quite understand myself, I chose the latter.

“But you didn’t,” I whispered, raising a hand to trace his cheekbones with my fingers.

And just like that, his eyes glazed with fire once again. Jareth caught my wrist in a vice like grip. “You hesitated last night,” his voice came out harsh—suddenly, he seemed _furious_. “You promised you wouldn’t.”

I stared at him, mouth parting slightly. _Was he serious?_ “I was fucking frozen, Jareth. I didn’t expect you to turn into the incredible-fucking-Hulk.” If Jareth wasn’t looking at me with fury blazing in his dual eyes, I would have laughed at my own joke.

He didn’t seem to get the reference. “A few more seconds, and I would have…” his voice died out, but he held my gaze.

Memories of him flashed through my mind—the only time I’d seen him this vulnerable was right before I’d said the words that rendered him powerless.

“You would have _what_?” I asked quietly, leaning into him so that my lips were centimeters from his. I smiled when he didn’t answer. “Would you have continued to kiss me? Continued making me bleed?”

“Sarah.” His voice was hoarse, his breathing turned heavy. Perhaps it was because of our so-called connection, but I could almost _sense_ the haze of lust that rushed through his veins.

 _This is what power feels like,_ I marveled, drinking in the heady rush. I had him at my mercy, and I knew it. “Would you have ripped off my dress, Jareth? Marked my body with your teeth?” I raised my other hand to lightly trace his lips with my fingers.

“Stop.” Jareth’s voice came out hoarser still, he tensed as I placed my free hand on his, gently removing it from my shoulder.

“What else would you have done?” I questioned softly, my fingers now tracing the lines of his throat. “Bound me to the Irym naked and helpless, before you… _consumed_ me?”

Jareth’s breathing grew more laborious as his dual eyes darkened, holding equal parts lust and desperation. The Goblin King was lost, in turmoil, and he needed _little old me_ to ease whatever it was that he was feeling.

I smiled. “Why didn’t you?”

“You play with fire,” he half growled.

“From what I can gather I’m either going to be consumed by you or the Labyrinth’s magic, Jareth. And if _that_ doesn’t happen there’s always Deimos and your priestess. Maybe you should let nature take its course—then you can leave my body for the vultures just like you told Arges you would.”

 _That_ seemed to do it.

Jareth stood up in one fluid motion, pulling me roughly to my feet. His eyes burned into mine. “I will _never_ allow that to happen Sarah. You’ll never escape us—even in death.”  

_Okay. That wasn’t creepy at all._

Before I could question him about what the hell he meant, Jareth coiled his hand into my hair and tilted my face—roughly. I could feel a few strands break because of sheer force and pain engulfed my senses.

 

\--

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: the plot is moving forward. Yay! Those two need to screw each other silly. The Goblin Feast is going to be one complicated hot mess. I haven’t gotten any complaints regarding grammar or spelling, but if you guys think I’m slacking off (Honoria Granger, I mean you) then let me know.
> 
> This could be seen as an addition to the last chapter, but I thought it could stand on its own. Question though: should I make my chapters longer? I feel like 5k words aren’t cutting it anymore. Reviews are finally sorted out. But still, *hem, hem* it’s easier for me to address reviews on Ao3.
> 
> I’m going to address Qs regarding Sarah’s personality. Some people seem to think she’s too ‘socially savvy’ in an unknown world—that her personality is very different when compared to the average reader, therefore unrelatable. That perhaps I based the character on myself (lol, no). Some issues with vegetarianism (lol, of all things…).
> 
> Sarah, in this story, is an ENTJ through and through—I think she acts exactly like one. Personally? I’m more of a cross b/w INTP and an ENTP. I’m not a vegetarian—I just tried a dish made out of beaten camel meat, another one that was scrambled goat brain—I think? It was all chewy so some animal’s brain, haha. I’ve also eaten a giant cockroach type thing on the sidewalks of Bangkok once…crunchy!
> 
> When I write either fanfics or my own stuff, I make sure characters have a solid personality structure and detailed life histories. I haven’t disclosed everything about her character yet but I’m sure you can make out that she has a strong sense of justice, has the ‘first born’ trait of conscientiousness, slightly neurotic (commitment-phobe), claustrophobic, played soccer in school (scored a few goals but wasn’t the star champion), got decent grades mostly Bs and B+s, some As, has mommy issues b/c her mom was kind of screwed up (not abusive or anything—more like flighty and perhaps a bit hyper, irresponsible with a flawed view of reality).
> 
> Higher than average IQ (but not significantly higher)—top 90th percentile when taking standardized aptitude based tests like the SATs. She’s good at socializing without being too much of an attention whore. She was raised by a loving dad so she’s not trying to get ‘fatherly affection’ from Jareth. Has [unconsciously] only gone out with dark haired men. Has good peace keeping skills like most kids of divorced parents. You get the idea? There’s a whole person mapped out *wink*
> 
> As for relatable, I just can’t write her as an 18-year-old, socially awkward couch potato with more than average cellulite and deathly pale skin (like she’s never gone to the fucking beach ever) looking for someone to take care of her…KWIM…that’s super unrelatable, to me. And if I were to base her on myself, she’d be short, small framed, skinny, slightly manic, always energetic, a bit extreme in partying, only child with loving non-divorced ‘bleeding heart liberal’ organic eating parents, curious about anything and everything, extremely competitive in the job scene, not too compassionate or emphatic, impatient, designer wear obsessed, skin care obsessed, cat obsessed person, with an insane passion for (…wait for it…) statistics and pattern recognition. Now that’d be an unrelatable character I’m sure. LOL.
> 
> Jareth is more of an INTJ (with an E of maybe 40%). If you notice, he’s not the most social character going and he gets all broody at times. He’s quite discreet about his lovers too, so…not a man-whore. He’s not good at management, but he’s brilliant at delegating. More of his history in later chapters.
> 
> Amer is probably ENFJ. Daemora—ESFP.
> 
> Q—based on a convo or two where people were shocked I didn’t find the role of ‘teacher’ or ‘professor’ sexy.
> 
> Come on guys. Teachers make me think ‘does Barry Manilow know you raid his closet?’ Or haggard people who get paid dismally to babysit children or worse, teenagers all day. And barring one or two profs in the Law Dept. or Business School, all profs are overgrown nerds who dress horribly. Fun to have an interesting conversation with, but fuck senseless? Nope. So I really do hope Jareth doesn’t come across as either.


	26. Vengeance and Redemption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Chapters are going to be longer the next one onwards. I love long reviews with lots of questions—TY for taking the time guys.

**\--**

I don’t know who moved first, but within seconds his mouth was upon mine—his kiss surprisingly gentle, in direct contrast to his fingers that were still coiled painfully in my hair. His lips were cool to touch but the fire he ignited in me was scorching hot. My heartrate sped up while my blood ran hot with pure, unadulterated lust. Days of teasing had left me desperate with a thirst that only he could quench. His fingers tightened even more in my hair and I whimpered, causing him to pull back and loosen his grip.  

Jareth seemed startled. “I apologize. I…didn’t mean to hurt you.” He tried reaching for me again, but seemed to decide against it and clenched his fist, as if he was frustrated and he didn’t know what to do.

Holding his gaze, I smiled at his unease. “Luckily for you, I’m feeling charitable enough to forgive you,” I teased, closing the distance between us and kissing him with a ferocity that I didn’t know I could muster. I drank him in, one hand on the back of his neck, one hand loosening the hooks of his jacket.

After a few seconds of shock, Jareth responded in kind, his tongue warring with mine as we fought for dominance. His lips tailed down my throat, his naked fingers tracing the plunging neckline of my bathrobe, as if hesitant whether he should go further. One hand grasped my hip, pulling me against him—he was already aroused and hard, and my hips bucked against his by reflex.

I stood on my toes, head thrown back as he continued his voracious assault on my neck, his fevered lips trailed lower and lower until he reached the tops of my breasts. “Sarah,” he murmured against my skin, his voice holding a frantic edge. Looking up at me, he demanded quietly, “Tell me to stop.”

I studied him. His dual eyes burned with conflicted passion, his chest rose and fell as his breathing deepened—he looked _wild_. Instead of answering him, I slowly pried him out of his jacket, and opened the buttons of his shirt, one button at a time, my gaze never wavering from his.

Jareth groaned as my fingers caressed the bare skin of his chest. “Sarah,” his hand reached for one of mine.

I only smiled as I pulled open his shirt, running my fingertips down the flat plane of his stomach, until I reached his belt. “Do you want _me_ to stop, Jareth?” I ran my fingers down his erection, which strained against the fabric of his form fitting pant. He hissed in pleasure, his eyes darkening as he bucked into my touch.

His breathing growing more and more labored, Jareth seemed to be fighting some kind of internal battle. His mismatched eyes drowned in desire, yet they held a look of caution—possibly because he truly believed he’d hurt me, or possibly because he was afraid of what he felt for me. _Who knew_? Either way, I wasn’t letting him get away so easily this time around. Unhooking his pants slowly, ran my fingertips along his length, keeping my touch as light as I could.

“Should I stop?” I asked again, my fingers grasping him with my hand—my fist working up and down his cock. I made sure to avoid touching the sensitive tip where the evidence of his arousal had already gathered. His hoarse gasps and low hisses sought to fuel my own desire, and I could feel liquid heat gathering between my legs.

Whatever trepidation Jareth had, seemed to disappear at that point. He roughly placed my legs around his waist and pulled me up against him, letting out a low growl as I wrapped my legs around him tightly. He pressed himself against me—my core throbbed painfully at the tease of his hardened flesh, twitching against me.

I moaned, trying to pull him closer with my legs, trying to get some friction—to no avail. “Jareth,” I murmured, my voice low and husky, “Don’t torture me like this.”

Jareth’s lips were on mine once again, though this time he was far from gentle. He kissed me like he wanted to swallow me whole—his teeth gnashed against mine and his tongue trust itself deep in my mouth, seeking my own. Holding me with his arms, he carried me over to the massive desk that sat to the side and placed me at the very edge. He should have looked ridiculous with his pants around his knees, but he didn’t. He looked like he was drowning in lust—almost to the verge of losing his sanity. He only looked at me for a fraction of a second before parting my legs and thrusting into me in one quick motion.

I cried out, the lack of foreplay making it so that my body wasn’t quite yet ready to accommodate his length—but the sheer pleasure I felt when he thrust slowly into me, caused the plain to ebb away and turn into something else entirely. Not desire, not pain—something _else_. His face was buried in my neck, where his lips worked fervently to tease and caress all of my sensitive spots.

Keeping my legs wrapped tightly around Jareth, I grasped the edge of the desk with my hands, my knuckles white from the pressure. He taunted me with slow but full thrusts—he’d pull himself out almost completely before slamming into me. Again. And again. And again, until lust built up to an insuperable cliff. I hovered close to a shattering climax, but didn’t reach it—his thrusts were too slow, too _controlled_.

“Look at me, Sarah.” One of his hands grasped the back of my neck so he held my head at an angle.

I looked at him as he asked, taken aback as I saw his eyes blaze with uncontrolled passion. Holding my hips with more force, he slammed into me at a different angle—touching the familiar spot that made me _weep_ with pleasure. His rhythm, however, never quickened, threatening to drive me insane.

“Jareth,” I begged, my breath coming out in shallow pants, “Harder.” I was sopping wet enough that I’m sure we made a mess on his desk—my muscles twitched and tightened with the onslaught of his thrusts. Yet it wasn’t enough to push me over the edge.

He placed kisses on my cheeks, my sweat soaked brow, and the outer shell of my ear and whispered, “Can you feel it, _precious thing_ , how I yearn for you?” He pulled himself out of me completely, and rubbed his cock against my slick, arousal soaked flesh.

I gritted my teeth—wanting him to just shut up and fuck me already. In spite of my frenzied state, I knew there was something of significance in what he was saying and I didn’t know whether to be pleased or afraid. Not trusting myself to say anything apart from telling him to fuck me harder, I reached forward and bit the sensitive spot at the base of his neck, just like how he’d bit me in Agea. My hands grasped his hips and I drew him against me, _hard_.

Letting out a sharp groan as my teeth sank into his flesh, Jareth entered me in one forceful thrust—this time his rhythm fast and unyielding. He touched the same spot inside me repeatedly, setting off my pleasurable nerves while stretching me further and further until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Look at me,” he commanded hoarsely as one of his fingers reached between us to rub my clit in a circular motion.

I did—he looked fierce and formidable, almost like a predator right before the kill. Increasing the speed of his thrusts, Jareth spurred me with his insistent fingers on my clit, right until I felt my muscles tense.

“Jareth,” I warned him of my approaching orgasm—he quickened his pace even more.

Burying his face into my neck, he held me in an unrelenting embrace, as if he was trying to lose himself within me. “Let go, Sarah.” His lips caressed the base of my throat, his teeth nipped the sensitive flesh lightly.

_Let go, Sarah…_

And so I did.

My orgasm washed through me in frenzied crests of pleasure, making my muscles tense and release with a force I had never felt before. He kept thrusting into me, his movements now frantic as my muscles contracted around him. I leaned into him and ran my tongue along the beating pulse on his neck—this sent him over the edge.

Jareth roared out his release—I felt him shudder violently before erupting within me in hot, hard streams. He kept his head buried in my neck as we waited for our breathing to calm down.

We must have looked like quite a sight. I sat on the King’s desk, completely naked with my legs apart—a dribble of his essence ran down my leg before dripping onto the floor. My still damp hair was all over the place and my body shone with sweat. Jareth stood between my legs, his pants around his knees, his upper body bare—chest heaving. His eyes still blazed with an intensity I’d never seen in him before.

My heart thrummed with a strange sensation, something close to despondency—as if I was mourning something that I couldn’t quite name. Before I could comprehend what I was feeling, a small tear escaped my eye and ran down my cheek.

Jareth followed the tear with his eyes before reaching it with a thumb. “Did I hurt you, _precious thing_?”

Raising my brows, I stared back at him—his face had never been this tender before and it frightened me to a certain degree. I didn’t even know how to answer him. Yes, he probably _had_ hurt me. I just didn’t know how.

Sighing deeply when I refused to answer him, Jareth pulled back and placed his arm around my waist. I recognized that he was preparing to sift us, and before I could ask him where, icy wind blasted around us.

\--

The enormous indigo colored canopy alerted me that he’d sifted us to the bed in the guestroom of his chambers. I scrambled up, immediately opening my mouth to ask that he send me back to my room.

Chuckling darkly, Jareth held a finger to my lips. “You will not leave my chambers until I can establish your safety—especially from the High Priestess.”

I closed my mouth _. Right_. Crossing my arms over my naked breasts, I felt my temper rise—he hadn’t stopped me from leaving before, why was he doing it now? “Jareth, I need my things, she probably won’t use compulsion twice in the same night. If you could just-“”

“I will not allow you to leave this room, _Sarah dearest_ ,” he interrupted with a slow smile, his voice amused.  “Debating the issue will prove useless. As for your things, I have asked your maids to attend to you here tomorrow morning.”

 _Fucking great._ “I am perfectly fine with taking care of myself. I just need my things,” I hissed.

Jareth raised a laconic brow in my direction and eyed me with keen interest for a few moments, no doubt trying to figure out how much grief I’d give him over this. “Very well,” he said with a flick of his wrists. “Your things are here.”

“Awesome,” I said sarcastically, sitting up so I could get out of the giant monstrosity of a bed. “I’m going to go take a bath.” Hopefully, he’d be gone by the time I returned.

Just as I was about to jump off the bed, Jareth’s hands encircled each of my wrists, holding me back. “You will sleep now, Sarah.” His tone clearly didn’t leave any room for arguments. “I will use magic if you do not cooperate.”

Gritting my teeth, I relented—this was a battle I wouldn’t win, especially if he used magic. “Fine,” I said, getting into the covers and turning my back to him. “Just so you know, I fucking hate that canopy.”

I could hear his laughter reverberate against the walls—and just like that, the canopy vanished. I felt him slide next to me, his pants and boots seemed to have disappeared.

“What are you-“”

“Shh,” Jareth breathed against the back of my neck, his hand curling around my waist. “Sleep, Sarah.”

Surprisingly, I did just that.

\--

When I woke up in the morning, I was alone—the only sign of Jareth having been there was that the spot next to me was slightly mussed. He must have headed to the fire grove once I’d fallen asleep. Thankfully, he must have taken back his orders for Cryen and Xia as they didn’t come in, and I was left to my own devices.

Just as he’d stated last night, my things were in the guest bathroom, along with a fresh change of clothes. I quickly bathed and changed into a pair of skinny jeans and a thick, cable knit sweater that seemed to be new. Maybe Renya was finally relenting and creating clothes I wanted—I couldn’t help but grin at the thought. _Still_ , I found it interesting that Jareth chose clothes that _I_ would have chosen for myself instead of some of the more intricate dresses and cloaks that lay unused in my closet.

Covertly looking out for His Highness’s presence, I quickly made my way out of the guest room and into the corridor that lead out of Jareth’s apartments. He didn’t seem to be in the sitting area, so I could probably make my escape without having to have the awkward ‘morning after’ conversation. Just as I was about to push open the massive set of wooden doors that opened out into the hallway, an irritatingly familiar, rich chuckle stopped me in my tracks.

 _Fuck_ …my heart beat faster by reflex. The fates always seemed to have it in for me when it came to Jareth. As I turned around slowly, I wasn’t surprised to see him sitting next to the fireplace with a breakfast laid out for two, his eyes alight with amusement. He wore tan colored form fitting pants with a crisp white shirt and mahogany colored boots. The asshole hadn’t even been there just a second earlier! It was so _fucking_ unfair that he could simply appear out of thin air whenever he pleased.

“ _Sa-rah_ ,” the Goblin King mock chided, shaking his head as if he were scolding an unruly child. “You weren’t going to _leave_ without saying a word, were you?”

“Um…no,” I replied, refusing to be embarrassed—I walked towards him as confidently as I could. 

“ _Really_?” he asked with a head tilt, his lilting tone clearly indicating that he didn’t believe me. “Because it looks as if you were going to open the wooden doors and dash out of here as soon as you could.”

“You are wrong,” I said evenly, grabbing my fruit bowl with a vengeance. “I was looking for you.”

Rich, deep laughter. “How I envy the ease with which you can lie, _Sarah dearest_ ,” Jareth rumbled. “And how cruel of you to contemplate leaving abruptly after… _using_ …my body so _thoroughly_ as you did last night.”

 _What. The. Fuck_! I gaped at him, my mouth wide open. “Are you fucking serious?”

Jareth raised an amused brow. “ _Extremely_. In more ways than one.” I could have kicked myself—he seemed to love making fun of me, and I always seemed to give him all the ammo in the world to do just that.

“Whatever…” I muttered, taking a large bite of my fruit salad.

He looked at me, still delighted. Evidently, he wasn’t going to leave me alone anytime soon. “I happen to find I quite like sharing breakfast with you in my chambers, _Sarah dearest_. We should do this more often.”

Raising my brows, I wondered what to make of that. “Sure.” _When confused, stick with short answers_. I went back to finishing my fruit bowl as quickly as I could.

Jareth’s eyes gleamed at my confusion. “Unless, of course, you don’t particularly _enjoy_ it,” he drawled, biting an apple suggestively.

I rolled my eyes in response. “Grow up, Jareth,” I snapped, finding the statement ironic considering he was literally more than ten times my age. Having finished breakfast at an unprecedentedly quick pace, I placed my empty bowl on the side table and stood up. “I need to head to the infirmary so…if there’s nothing else...”

“By all means,” Jareth replied with a grin. Thankfully, he didn’t ask me _why_ I was heading to the infirmary—that would have been the mother of all awkward conversations. “There’s a change in your training schedule today.”

And just as I was about to ask what the fuck the so called change was, and why couldn’t he just tell me instead of making me ask him a million questions, Jareth stood up swiftly, his sharpened gaze focused on the view outside as if he saw something I couldn’t.

“Jareth?”

Turning around after a few seconds, Jareth drew his lips into a tight line. “Go visit the infirmary, Sarah. I shall come collect you later in the day. In regards to your training, you will train with Amer and not Daemora.”

Two things stuck out—he’d said ‘collect me’ and then he’d said I’d be training with Amer. “Collect me for what?” I asked, really getting annoyed with his cryptic words.

Jareth smiled, the smile not quite reaching his expressionless eyes. “I sense there will be a Calling today.”

\--

Eires stared at me, her face perfectly neutral as she considered my request. “You’re asking for a spell or concoction to ensure you do not conceive?”

I sighed. She didn’t seem to understand the concept of a morning after pill, and I didn’t know how to put it in words. “No. Something to take after the fact so even if I _have_ conceived, it’ll _erase_ the fertilized egg.” I groaned—I don’t think they studied biology the same way we did. How the fuck was I supposed to explain human reproduction!?

Fortunately, I didn’t have to. Comprehension dawned in her iridescent eyes. “That would depend, Lady Sarah—were you with General Arges yesterday?”

 _Well, that was direct_. I raised my brows, she sure didn’t mince her words. “No.”

Looking visibly relieved, the healer shrugged her slim shoulders. “Then you wouldn’t require any such concoction. Neither Silver Bearers nor Ifrits can conceive with humans, the rules of magic don’t allow it.”

I coughed. “Yes, well, um…” I stammered, unsure of how to proceed. “What about half Silver Bearers?” Of which there was only one in the entire realm. _Smooth, Williams, really fucking smooth._

“You will not be able to conceive with the King, Lady Sarah,” she said with a gentle smile. “His magic is too strong.”

 _Oh_. “You’re sure, right? I’ve pretty much always doubled on birth control because my health teacher was a psycho who kept telling us that it just takes a small amount of” my babbling stopped as I turned beet red—I sounded ridiculous to my own ears. “This is the first time in my life I haven’t been responsible with birth control and I _don’t_ want to have to pay for it.”

She placed her hand on mine and gave it a squeeze. “I am sure.”

I let out a massive breath of air that I didn’t even realize I had been holding. Jareth’s magic sperm to the rescue.

\--

My practice session with General Amer was going much better than the last. I had managed to shield myself from more than a few strong blazes he’d sent my way. I’d even managed to reflect some of the flares back at him.

“Perfect form,” Amer complimented from the far side of the room. “But try sieving first and _then_ reflecting, Lady Sarah. I’m going to barrage you with heavy fire, prepare yourself.”

 _Oh well_. At least he was giving me a fair warning. I closed my eyes, concentrating as much as I could as I felt him summon the fire from the atmosphere. It didn’t escape me that I was able to _sense_ magic far better after my episode with Calestos, which left me wondering if he’d triggered something deep within me. I snapped out of my thoughts as I sensed Amer build up his fire blaze until it burned my skin.

 _Any moment_ …I concentrated on my shields, making sure they were up.

By the time he aimed the magic towards me, I was fully prepared. With all the force I could gather, I sieved the blaze—taking in what I could and reflecting what I couldn’t. My skin burned, and my throat and eyes were utterly dry because of the heat, but I succeeded. It had taken more than a few months of agonizing practice, but I was _finally_ able to enact the very basic sequence of sieve, absorb, and reflect when it came to fire magic. The thought was anticlimactic, really.

“Congratulations, Lady Sarah,” Amer boomed, grinning at me, his amber eyes glowing with Ifriti fire that was clearly still in his system. “We shall now aim to master the technique with higher intensity.”

 _Great_.

“Do we have to start right away?” I whined. If Jareth was brutal in his sessions, Amer was absolutely unrelenting. He’d smile sweetly, encourage and praise me well, and then he’d push me for far more. “I need five minutes, General,” I said, sitting down on the floor—my aching muscles cried with relief.

Amer nodded before walking towards me and sitting down himself. His curly locks were clipped back today, and that gave him a slightly younger look. “You’ve done well Lady Sarah. I’ve never heard of a human who’s able to sieve Ifriti magic.”

I grinned weakly. “I guess I’m just exceptional that way.”

He laughed his loud booming laugh which echoed through the walls of the empty practice hall. “And I’m sure the King thinks so as well,” he said with a sly wink.

I gaped. “General Amer!” I exclaimed, pretending to be shocked. “Are you trying to pry into my personal life?”

He nodded, an unapologetically rakish grin breaking out across his face. “Of course. Not because I would like to intrude, but because a war is eminent. As the High General, I need to make sure my King, the commander of my forces, is in a sound state of mind.”

I smiled at that. While he _was_ joking around with me, there was a certain amount of truth to his words. “I can’t tell you much about the King’s emotions, and whether he has any. When it comes to me, he’s obviously… _obsessed_ …and doesn’t want to be. But you already knew that.” I recalled what he’d said to me, his words as clear as crystal.

_“You unleashed a terrible force within us—an unfathomable sense of yearning, and the Labyrinth responded in kind. When you rejected my offer, you effectively rejected the Labyrinth and that escalated the destabilization of its magic.” He paused, tilting his head, his dissecting gaze making sure to study the emotions that crossed my face. “I tried containing the unstable magic, and unfortunately the instability spread onto me, like an accursed illness. For that’s what it is, my dearest—my yearning for you is an illness.”_

Amer shot me a look that said ‘ _really…_?’ complete, with sarcasm. “You must know his emotions run deeper than mere obsession, Lady Sarah—don’t do me the disservice of pretending otherwise.”

“Okay, maybe not _just_ obsessed,” I conceded with a sigh. “He cares about me. But then again, he’s gone out of his way to tell me he’d rather not.” That was true enough.

Some deep emotion must have crossed my face as the General raised a concerned brow. “How about _you_ , Lady Sarah?”

My brows shot up— _how about me, indeed_.

“I’m drawn to him, I can’t argue against that. Yet I don’t understand him at all,” I frowned, lost in my thoughts for a few moments. “I don’t know what he wants from me, especially once the war is over. We’re two very different people. I mean, he’s not even a person.” I looked away—Amer’s question gave me too much to think about.

“I meant, are you… _well_ , Lady Sarah? I’ve noticed a conflicting change in you for the last few days.”

 _Ah_. The General was inquiring after my fragile human mental state. I flashed him a brilliant smile. “I’m doing remarkably okay considering the circumstances, General,” I said truthfully.

“I’m happy to hear that.” The fiery orbs that were Amer’s eyes turned to their normal, amber state as his magic abated. “We are not human, Lady Sarah.”

I smirked at him. “ _Really_? I hadn’t noticed.”

He gave me a reproachful look. “What I meant to state is that _should_ you require some…understanding, and empathy…we will not be able to provide you with any.” He averted his eyes, as if trying to search for the right words. “The Demi General, on the other hand, _can_.”

Well. _This_ was getting interesting. “You’re pushing me away from the King and towards Arges, General Amer. _Why_?” Right after he’d warned me that Arges was Ceres’s pet General, no less.

“Arges is part mortal—he would probably understand your emotions the best. And as for the King…I am anxious about his safety, Lady Sarah. He is going to have to fight a very taxing war, and I don’t want him… _affected_.” Amer didn’t look at me as he spoke, he was clearly very uncomfortable with the conversation.

I studied the High General, my eyes deliberately slow—it must have taken quite a lot out of him to say he was concerned for Jareth’s safety, or mine for that matter.

“Thank you for your concern, Amer,” I said, my tone genuine as I placed a sympathetic hand on his arm. “I only just learned of Arges’s history with Jareth today, and I wouldn’t want the Demi General to go through any painful memories on my behalf.”

“I don’t believe he sees his memories in you, Lady Sarah…neither does he seek to unleash his vengeance.”

My eyes widened at _that_. “Why would Arges want to unleash his vengeance on me?” _Especially considering that his fight was with Jareth._

Amer gave me a brittle smile, his generally bright eyes grew dim. “If the Demi General were to know the full extent of the King’s fascination with you, he may seek vengeance for the mortal born who was lost to him.”

My mouth fell open. “Jareth killed _his_ mortal born so Arges kills me?” _Jesus_. My thoughts wondered over to the woman who was lost— _had she become a Daughter of the Sea? Had Jareth brought her over to inhabit one of the lakes in the Labyrinth? Could Arges seek justice for her by killing me?_ “That’s not fair,” I concluded, mostly to myself.

Chuckling softly, Amer shook his head. “Perhaps not, but that is the way of the Underground.”

Eye for an eye, I supposed. “Makes sense that Calestos was surprised in the below ground temple. He probably expected Arges to let me die.”

Amer merely shrugged. “I wouldn’t presume to know Calestos’s motivations. However, it is intriguing that General Arges seeks _redemption_ with you, instead of vengeance.”

I pondered that. “Redemption, huh?” I asked rhetorically. “Why would he even _need_ redeeming?”

Before the General could answer, an icy wind tore into the room, and a bitterly amused Goblin King looked at both of us, his General and his pet human—his gaze unflinching. “I suppose you believe _I_ am the one who ought to seek redemption, _Sarah dearest_.”

Amer stood up abruptly and bowed. “Your Highness.” He held out a hand for me to take.

Breathing deeply, wondering how much of our conversation Jareth had heard, I took Amer’s outstretched hand and stood up.  

Jareth showed no signs of having heard any more of our conversation as he eyed me with a harsh grin on his face. “The time has come, _precious thing_ ,” he murmured. “We must leave for the Goblin Castle.” He held out an arm for me to take.

I looked at Amer for a few moments before taking Jareth’s proffered arm. “Thank you for the session, General.”

Amer bowed, an almost sympathetic smile on his lips. “Lady Sarah.”

\--

I paced back and forth across Jareth’s personal room in the Goblin Castle, my steps agitated as Jareth sat down.

He followed my movements with his eyes, his posture completely relaxed. “You must reconcile yourself with the role you’ve chosen, _Sarah dearest_.” There it was, the mocking tone… _yet_ , and perhaps I imagined it, I heard something more.

 _Reconcile yourself with the role you’ve chosen_ …I knew he’d used those words deliberately to remind me that I had indeed chosen to be the Labyrinth’s vessel. In doing so, he’d nicely ignored the fact that I _wouldn’t_ have been tangled _this deep_ if it hadn’t been for his fealty oath.

Choosing not to argue, I gave him a reconciliatory smile. “Easier said than done, Jareth.”

“Perhaps I can distract you,” he said, changing the subject, his lips twisting with jaded delight. “I believe you might find it amusing that I found Rhaf wondering around the castle grounds last night, in his…sleeping attire.”

 _Mister icy leather tunic was still around even after the Silver Court sessions had ended?_ “Why?”

Jareth chuckled, his voice low. “The compulsion used on you was so strong, that it affected him as well—his chambers are situated right above yours. You mustn’t take him too seriously, _precious thing_.” Jareth said with a smirk. “Lord Rhaf is generally rude to everyone.”

I rolled my eyes. “You included.”

Jareth laughed more deeply. “Yes. Although I do have my ways of, shall we say, _asserting_ my authority.”

“By making him wear the shiniest of things?” I asked with my brows raised.

Jareth grinned back, but his amusement was cut short and his face grew harsh. He bared his teeth and a familiar, loud noise rang around us.

The Calling was complete.

He looked at me for a tense moment. “I shall return, _Sarah_.”

\--

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: The French Open is done, the King of Clay is back! Vamos Rafa! That means…It’s time for Wimbledon. Thiem might just win it this year.
> 
> So…accidental pregnancy isn’t possible for Sarah (not by J anyway). Assume that his magic swimmers are way too strong for a human egg. Glad you guys noticed Jareth’s way more in touch with his emotions than Sarah—to the point that Amer is concerned. A lovesick king is useless during a war.
> 
> In RL? I recommend doubling up on BC and definitely use condoms unless you’re in a long-term relationship and have seen the dude’s recent STI checkup printout. Don’t risk herpes! Herpes and diamonds have one thing in common. They’re forever.
> 
> Q: [statement] Sarah sure does bathe a lot in your fic.
> 
> A: Yep. She takes a bath in the morning and one in the night (after a long day of practice). She also brushes her teeth three times a day because she takes oral hygiene very, very seriously.
> 
> She uses deodorant too (magic, Underground deodorant), in case you were wondering.
> 
> Q: [statement] I like your fic, but I’m not going to comment b/c I hate you and your ANs.
> 
> A: Be still my beating heart. I’m certainly not going to quit putting up my ANs so that I get more reviews.
> 
> Where else can I anonymously share my most profound opinions like why is Peter Parker (in the Toby Maguire movies) so sad? He’s short, super soft spoken, super poor, super sensitive, doesn’t get the girl, doesn’t even get laid, gets bitch slapped by his one friend who tries killing him—WHY did the writers/director make him so pathetic? It wasn’t even a sob-fest, depressing Oscar nominated type of movie.


	27. The Sacrificed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the Labyrinth. I do not own the Beauty and the Beast either.
> 
> AN: This has taken forever. Ugh – was supposed to be at the Goblin Feast by now. Life hasn’t been bad, but it has been busy. In the last year, not 1, nor 2, but 11 microbreweries have opened up close to where I live. That’s how you know the economy’s skyrocketing—an exponential increase in trendy booze places.

 

 

**\--**

Jareth returned much sooner than I had expected, the lines on his face drawn tight and harsh, his eyes as still as crystalized silica. Cocking his head to the side as he looked at me, he held out a gloved hand. “Come.”

Just as I opened my mouth to ask him why he’d returned so early, he shook his head resolutely. “Don’t.” That’s all he said, his voice held quiet warning.

Swallowing a multitude of questions and a fresh surge of fear, I took his hand, trying to read _some_ emotion in his impassive face…to no avail. The last thing I saw before we sifted out of the Goblin Castle, was Jareth’s portrait that hung above the fireplace—the look of cold fury and vengeance in his eyes.

\--

Surprisingly, Jareth sifted us to the Clearing—unlike the last time when we’d viewed the runner from the castle terrace. The weather was warm and sultry in the Clearing—a stark contrast to the weather in the rest of the Kingdom. My cable knit sweater felt hot and scratchy against my skin. I didn’t know what to make of the turn of events.

Looking around, trying to evaluate the situation, I wondered what the hell was going on, when I caught sight of a woman with long, red hair that cascaded down to her waist. She stood by the Irym in the center of the Clearing, a screaming bundle in her arms. I drew in a deep breath. My heart felt heavy in my chest. I had been in the Underground long enough to recognize her as a Gaelian. She looked wild and delirious. Her smile stretched wide, as if her cheek muscles were strained to the fullest.  The woman did not move a muscle as the baby’s cries grew louder.

“Shh…she’s not…” I stuttered twice before finding my voice. She looked as if she was drugged, and _not_ lightly—like she took LSD and E and possible coke, all in one sitting. I spoke again, glad that my voice didn’t break this time around, “She’s not normal.”

Letting out a derisive laugh, Jareth replied without turning towards me, “The Labyrinth latches onto those in a weakened state, _Sarah dearest_. It influences their state of mind.”

My mouth went dry—“what do you mean by _influences_? She doesn’t know what she’s doing?”

With a shake of his head, Jareth turned around and gave me a cold, hard look. “I don’t have the time to give you a lesson at the moment, _Sa-rah_. I will, however, warn you _not_ to react in a manner in which I may be forced to use restraints.”

 _Not to react?!_ _Restraints?!_

My body trembled as I tried keeping my surging emotions in check. The Gaelian woman didn’t bat an eye as Jareth walked towards her, his movements slow and steady, as if not to scare her off. A lion stalking a gazelle with graceful ease.

 _What the fuck was happening? Why wasn’t she running or begging Jareth to let her go?_ _…and just like that, the pieces of the puzzle fell into play. If she hadn’t started running, that meant…that meant…oh, fuck no!_

A violent burst of panic spread in my chest, making me feel cold and hot at the same time. If she hadn’t started running, it meant that she had forfeited the Labyrinth’s challenge. My heartrate spiked and my pulse raced as my breathing turned frantic.

Jareth didn’t as much as glance at my direction as he stepped towards the Irym. “Give me the child.” His words were softly spoken, but the underlying command was severe.

An old, forgotten memory played itself in my head. “ _Forget about the baby.”_

My vision blurred as blood roared in my ears. A thick blanket of numbness consumed my chest until it spread out to other parts of my body, from the tips of my fingers to the ends of my toes, essentially keeping me frozen like a statue.

“No,” I whispered, unable to find my voice. I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t shout, hell, I couldn’t even move.  And then I felt it—a joyous sense of anticipation, which grew stronger by the second. _Excitement_ , even.

_The Labyrinth was waiting…_

I watched helplessly, my body catatonic, as the woman passed the tightly wrapped bundle to Jareth, her face a mask of crazed delight. Struggling to swallow down my imminent nausea, I couldn’t help but think that her actions weren’t in her control. She wouldn’t have sacrificed her baby if the Labyrinth had _influenced_ her…my stomach violently at the thought.

 _This was wrong. So fucking wrong_.

“Jareth,” I whispered, my throat so dry that it was getting painful. “Please don’t.” That’s all I managed to say before falling to my knees and throwing up the undigested remains of my lunch.

Jareth turned to me, a steely look of anger in his mismatched eyes, his lips curled downward in cruel displeasure, as if warning me not do anything foolish. He placed the child at the base of the Irym and stepped back. “This is your first forfeit, Sarah—try not to lose consciousness. Close your eyes, if you must.”

I couldn’t do anything but look on in horror as I saw a lock of fine, red hair peek out of the bundle.  And then I _felt_ it, the Labyrinth’s joy. The sick feeling of jubilation at the prospect of feeding onto new magic—the magic that would eventually be channeled through me.

Closing his eyes, Jareth placed a gloved hand on the Irym. When he spoke, his voice was deceptively soft—so soft that I could hardly hear him. “Take the sanctioned as a sacrifice.”

_No!_

Something inside me snapped. In a flash of a second, my limbs kicked into gear, as the paralyzing panic I had felt melted into something else. I ran to the child as fast as I could— _consequences be damned_. There was no way I was letting this happen. I kept running faster as I closed in on the Irym.

…only to be halted by the force of Jareth’s magic. “Jareth,” I screamed, my voice as crazed as the Gaelian woman’s eyes. “You have to stop this!”

Jareth turned to me, his hands still on the Irym. He narrowed his eyes—not an ounce of sympathy in his impassive face. “You cannot stop the inevitable, Sarah.” He turned back to the Irym, “Take what is given freely.”

Struggling in vain, I screwed my eyes shut as tightly as I could, unable to watch the child turn into dust….but I _felt_ it. A magical charge in the breeze, a rush of magic and a feeling of _utter_ elation. The emotions evoked by the Labyrinth were a dire contrast to the horror and sorrow I felt for the child.

As the breeze died, I opened my eyes slowly. The Gaelian woman hadn’t moved an inch. Her deranged expression, however, changed entirely. She looked calm, her eyes glazed as if she hadn’t really processed what had just happened. 

I heard a rustle of fabric as Jareth walked towards her—he held out a hand and she took it instinctively. He held her in a tender embrace, but there was nothing particularly sexual about it. “My darling creature,” he murmured softly, his tone coaxing and low. “What do you choose?”

The woman’s smile faded for a split second before returning to her face. “Sacrifice.”

 _Sacrifice_? Bile rose up my throat.

Jareth held her delicately, as if worried she would break. “Do you come willingly?” he lilted, a hypnotic quality to his voice—a predator mesmerizing a prey.

The woman didn’t hesitate to respond. “Yes.”

Turning his gaze onto me, Jareth held out his other hand. “I shall release you now, Sarah. Please get a hold of yourself.”

_Get a hold of myself?! Was he fucking kidding me?_

I looked at the Irym, a violent shudder running down my spine as I noticed that the child’s blanket remained even if the child did not.

“ _Sarah_.” His voice was sharper now, an unmistakable edict. “I will use force if necessary.”

Shivering involuntarily, I reached for his hand.

 _What fucking choice did I have_?

\--

Jareth sifted us to a place outdoors that I’d never been to before. We were surrounded by enormously tall pine trees and the ground was covered with snow. Not the fluffy kind, characteristic of the first snowfall of the year, but the kind that’s hardened over the months, as if the very ground has been frozen solid. I strained to study my surroundings—the forest was so thick and dense that I could only see tiny bits of the pale night sky through the labyrinth of branches above me. The occasional gust of biting cold wind blew into my face—my eyes teared up and my eyelashes felt heavy as the tears turned into ice. I found myself wearing an uncomfortably thick coat and sheepskin boots, my head was wrapped in a woolen scarf.

“Jareth?” I called out, anxiety evident in my voice. _Hell_ , I could barely see _at all_. My anxiety quickly turned to desperation as another gust of wind almost knocked me down to the ground. Thick woolen coat or not, I was going to die if I was exposed to this kind of cold. “Where are you?”

 _“Calm yourself, precious thing.”_ I heard his voice in my head. _“I am behind you.”_

I whirled around—almost sagging with relief when I saw the faint outline of his form. The Gaelian woman was not there. I rushed towards him, my teeth now chattering so forcefully that I couldn’t even speak.

Jareth placed an arm on my shoulders as I reached him, warming me instantly. I felt his lips graze my forehead. “I’m afraid half the ritual remains, _Sa-rah_ ,” he rumbled as he placed his hands on my shoulders and shook me, _hard_. “Try not to be so weak,” he said with a sneer, before turning around and walking deeper into the forest. “Follow me, if you don’t want to get left behind.”

 _Fucking mercurial son-of-a-bitch_.

Too cold to get angry, I did as he asked. The forest grew darker still as the branches grew denser and the trees more numerous. My senses were consumed by the smell of pinecones, the unrelenting cold air, and the occasional light of a pale star. In a weird way, it felt like a nightmarish Christmas…in Antarctica, if Antarctica were to have trees.

We walked until we reached a part of the forest where the trees grew gnarled and twisted—as if they were dead. The scenery went from nightmarish Christmas to downright terrifying Halloween. Some of the more severely twisted ones were engulfed in a blue and orange glow, as if they were on fire, except there was no smoke, nor was there a flame. Those stumps served as torches of sorts, leading us to a massive, dark cave.

I clutched onto Jareth as adrenaline pumped through my veins. Every instinct I had told me to run, to flee this terrible place. “What are we doing here?”

Jareth only chuckled darkly in response. “Do not fear, precious thing,” he crooned—his voice echoed against the enclosing walls, making me jump.

Hating myself for being so weak, I clutched him even tighter. _Get a grip, Williams_ , I chided myself, _he’s going to use your weakness against you if he can_. _One dark cave, and you’re clinging onto him like a child_. Still, I didn’t let him go as we walked to a dimly lit area deep inside the cave.  

I frowned. The cave looked empty save for a few fire torches on the wall. Just as I was about to ask Jareth what we were doing here, my vision blurred as a heavy mist engulfed our surroundings, making it virtually impossible for me to see _anything_.

“ _The mist will clear in a few moments, Sa-rah_.” Jareth spoke into my mind as he gently detached himself from my panicked grasp. “ _Stay calm_.”

Calm…I could do calm. Even if I was in a small, enclosed space…in the middle of a jungle…while virtually _blind_ …and I felt like I’d be hypothermic any second. _God-fucking-dammit! When was this fucking mist going to clear up!?_

My panicked thoughts were interrupted by Beina Nae’s low, melodious voice. “You’ve brought us a gift, my lord. A Gaelian.”

Unfortunately, the high priestess’s presence only made my panic increase ten-fold. The mist cleared, just as Jareth said it would, and I saw that we were surrounded by the lesser bone priestesses, their silver limbs gleaming in the dim torch light, half decaying masks made of calf bones on their faces. I must have looked as if I was ready to run, as I heard Jareth’s warning in my head, loud and clear, “ _Do not run from us, Sa-rah. We will hunt you down and bring you back_.”

_Us? Hunt you down?_

_Jesus_ , what was Jareth trying to do—terrify me until I got a heart attack? I stood like a deer caught in the headlights as the extraordinarily beautiful Beina Nae make her way towards me, her eyes glowing with unconcealed excitement.

 _Well_. I guess _she_ was happy to see me. Something told me that wouldn’t work out to my advantage.

“Defeater, I am pleased to find you among us today,” she said with a tilt of her head, her iridescent eyes intent on mine. “I have waited a long while for your presence at the fire grove.”

I swallowed as she stared at me, her gaze so intense that I stopped feeling cold for a few seconds.

She laughed her musical laugh, her gaze softened. “You seem to be at a loss for words, Defeater. How do you find our fire grove?”

Fighting the urge to answer with ‘just peachy,’ I looked around the cave, trying my best to avoid the many bone priestesses that surrounded us. The first thing I noticed were the bones— _all_ sorts of bones and skeletons lay around, some looked human, or humanoid at least, most did not. Most were arranged in circular patterns on the floor, but some were stacked against the walls. There were some elk carcasses as well, and they looked… _fresh_. I supposed the insanely low temperatures must have kept them well preserved.

 _Oh God, I was going to be sick_.

“ _Answer her_.” Jareth’s voice boomed in my head, snapping me out of my observations.

“It’s very…um…interesting,” I said, wincing internally at my poor choice of words. _Wonderful conversational skills, Williams_ —my inner voice scoffed.

Beina Nae smiled in response, seemingly pleased with my answer as she gave me a small bow. “Come mortal, feel the power pulse through your veins.” She glanced towards Jareth, who nodded in response.

_What the fuck were they up to?_

Two of the lesser priestesses lead me away to the center of the cave—each held a wrist, as if they feared I’d run…which I probably would have. Jareth held my gaze but didn’t respond to the panic that was evident in my eyes. I don’t know whether I imagined it, but there was a ghost of a smirk on his otherwise impassive face.

“ _Breathe_ ,” he commanded, “ _You may close your eyes, but do not run. No harm shall come to you if you cooperate with the bone priestesses_.”

That’s when I saw her, the Gaelian woman—she lay down on slab of stone in the far corner.

_Good fucking God._

When Jareth had said that he gave forfeiters to the bone priestesses as a sacrifice, he meant _literal_ sacrifice. My stomach turned queasy and my head grew light, I was going to pass out.

“ _Relax, precious. The woman can’t feel anything, not anymore. Do not lose consciousness_ ,” Jareth’s voice kept me standing somehow. “ _Do not show her any signs of weakness. Close your eyes and breathe_.”

“My lord,” Beina Nae hummed, her tone infinitely reverent as she addressed her king—she bowed low enough that her hair touched the ground. Taking out a large golden knife, she placed it against her forehead, her eyes half shut. “In your honor, we shall release the magic bound by this woman, and drink from her life.”

The lesser priestesses began chanting in a language I didn’t understand. Knowing instinctively what was coming next, I closed my eyes as Jareth instructed. I could hear metal cut against skin, against veins and cartilage—the chanting grew louder. A violent rupture of magic erupted from where the woman lay down—the stale air around me buzzed into life. I don’t know whether this went on for minutes or hours, but I kept my eyes closed until the magic began to wane and the buzzing stopped.  

The first thing I noticed when I reopened my eyes was Jareth’s face—he looked _satisfied_. Had he absorbed the woman’s magic? Was that what his so called kindness was about—increasing his own power? I didn’t know what to believe.

“Will you stay for the aftermath, my lord?” the head priestess asked wistfully, as if she couldn’t wait for the aftermath, whatever _that_ was.  

Jareth shook his head before walking towards me. “Enjoy the heart, Beina Nae.” That’s all he said before taking me in his arms and sifting us back to King’s Castle.

\--

He sifted us to my bathroom—not the one situated in the guest room in his chambers, but the one in my room. A small mercy, I supposed. The sunken tub was already filled with steaming water. He didn’t say a word as he removed my blood soaked coat and untied my dress.

“Take off your boots, Sarah.” Jareth spoke mutedly, as if he was worried I’d break down and lose my shit any second.

I looked at him, completely unresponsive. I wanted to scream at him, rage about everything that had happened… _but I couldn’t_. I felt as if I’d locked all of my emotions in a leaden box and thrown away the key. Probably not a healthy way of dealing with emotions, but it was better than losing my mind.

I felt so detached from reality that I didn’t notice Jareth magic away my boots and lower me into the water while he was still fully clothed, getting himself completely wet in the process. Once I was comfortably settled, he stepped out.

“Can you manage by yourself?” he asked, his gaze now sharp.

I responded with a nod.

“Get some sleep,” he ordered, something akin to relief flickering in his dual eyes. It was gone before I could fully register it.

I laughed humorlessly. “I’m about ten minutes away from passing out, Jareth—I’m definitely going to sleep.”

He nodded curtly in acknowledgement, his lips curling upwards into his trademark smirk. “Try not to drown, _Sarah dearest_.” Saying that, he sifted himself out of my bathroom.

\--

The next day went by without any incident. I saw neither Jareth nor Amer, and spent most of it with Daemora, learning court protocol. The princess’s chirpy personality was just what I needed to recover from yesterday’s nightmare, and I had a feeling Jareth knew it.

 _Jareth_ …

I didn’t know what to make of him. _Ha!_ —nothing new, I supposed. One second he could be concerned and the next, he could be brutally derisive and calculating. Even now, I had no fucking idea as to what he actually wanted from me—what he expected of me once the war was over. If we came out alive, that is.

Taking in a spoonful of, what tasted like, the blandest cabbage soup in the world, I tried to keep myself from wincing. It tasted godawful. Right when I tried braving another spoonful of the disgusting soup, the Goblin King’s smooth baritone startled me—

“Two chefs in the kitchens instructed to specifically to cater to you, and you choose to eat gruel,” came Jareth’s amused observation. “Are you trying to starve, _Sarah dearest_?”

\--and the damned soup bowl fell right into my lap. I yelped as the scalding hot liquid burned the sensitive skin on my thighs. “Would it kill you to fucking knock, Jareth? Amer never barges into my room like you do.”

Rich laughter reverberated in my ears. “I’m afraid the General is more honorable than I care to be,” Jareth said with a wink, before his expression turned serious. “I’m afraid I must request you to accompany me tonight, _Sa-rah_. I require your… _valuable assistance_.” The latter part of his ‘request’ held a mocking edge.

I frowned. Dressed impeccably in black leather, he looked every bit of the dark and seductive Goblin King that he was…question was, who the fuck had he been trying to seduce? _Don’t even go there, Williams_ —I warned myself, _not your business_.   

A laconic brow. “Are you going to stand there, gaping like a naïve simpleton?”

 _That fucking did it_.

“You’ll have to wait, _Your Majesty_ ,” I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster. “As you can see, your _abrupt presence_ in my room made me spill soup all over my pajamas.” I stomped my way to the changing area in the bathroom and pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater. “You’ll have to give me-” I gasped as I noticed he stood only right behind me, our bodies merely centimeters from each other. “Get out, I need to clean up.”

Jareth gave me a slow, toothy smile—one that held dark promise. “Not very _friendly_ tonight, are you?”

And we were back to innuendos again. _Fuck that_.

“No,” I said, shoving him away. “Please leave me alone for five min-” I gasped again as a sudden buzz of magic enveloped me, leaving me cold and then warm…and dressed in formal attire. Instead of my pajamas, I wore a full sleeved black gown that was cinched at the waist and tapered down my legs. The only thing that kept me from looking like Morticia Addams was the wide, plunging neckline that was covered in sheer net fabric, studded with finely crafted crystal beads. _That_ and the slit that ran all the way up my thighs, exposing my entire leg—had the slit come up any more, and I’d be flashing a hipbone. Looking at myself in the mirror, I noticed that my hair was loose…he liked it that way, I supposed. Of course, I didn’t fail to notice that I complimented his look quite well, which meant he’d chosen this ensemble on purpose. This _wasn’t_ the look of a mortal possession, this was the look for his…

A rich, teasing laugh interrupted my thoughts. “Shall we make a move? Or do you need more time to stare at yourself?”

Fuming, I turned around and glared at him. “I’m not going to _make a move_ unless you tell me what’s happening.”

“Very well,” Jareth said, his dual eyes gleaming with hidden mirth—the asshole was enjoying my anger. “ _What’s happening_ , is what happens before every war,” he paused, studying my confused expression. “Conferences and congregations.”

 _Great_. He was back to speaking in riddles and the serpentine grin on his face told me he loved it. “I’m not exactly an expert on antebellum relationships, so you’ll have to give me a better explanation than that, Jareth.”

An exaggeratedly disapproving look. “Come now, _Sarah dearest_. Don’t tell me humans have stopped engaging in warfare.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not everyone has to engage in warfare these days, Jareth, not where I’m from anyway. I wasn’t economically disadvantaged, born in the middle-of-nowhere with no choice of employment but the military.” _With the Labyrinth’s interference in my life, neither was Toby_. Jareth looked like he was about to ask another question or make a smartass comment, so I held up my hands. “People who’re economically advantaged don’t really have to join the military—which means, we don’t really have to actively participate in wars, we just feel the side effects.”

“Hmm,” Jareth murmured, looking away, his arms crossed in a noncommittal pose. “I suppose that’s the advantage of having a large population. All of my Kingdom will have to be involved in the war.”

 _Okay_. I remembered, during the trials, that Jareth had said he only had a hundred and seventy six members in his army…which meant that there were a grand total of a hundred and seventy six Silver Bearers. That did _not_ look good.

“How many members in the Agean military?” I asked, trying to calculate the odds.

Jareth shrugged. “Ageans must be about forty thousand…the Demi Soldiers have higher numbers, perhaps double of the Agean army. The _mortals_ , however, have the highest numbers at a hundred thousand, but they are weak and easily defeated.”

My eyes widened comically— _we were fucked_! That was a ridiculously skewed ratio. Wait, ‘ _we_ _were fucked’? Not your war Williams, not your King._

I was curious, however, about the Agean mortals—Deimos didn’t seem like he had any regard for mortals. “Why would mortals fight for Deimos?”

“They’re not fighting for Deimos, _precious thing_. Agea is perhaps the only Kingdom in this realm where mortals can live so… _freely_.”

 _Ah—that made sense_. He stopped me when I started asking another question.

“No more questions, Sa-rah,” he rumbled, drawing out my name, a gloved hand held out for me to take. “Let us ensure that you have some experience in, as you say, _antebellum relationships_.” He made the whole thing sound way dirtier than the real meaning.

Rolling my eyes, I took his arm, unable to stop my face from breaking into a smile.

__

Jareth sifted us to a room I’d never entered before. It was completely empty save for a massive throne that sat on a platform in the center. The harsh stone flooring was more polished than the rest of the castle, giving it a more formal look, as were the walls, which were adorned with fire torches. The claustrophobic in me immediately noticed that there were no windows…I couldn’t help but wonder why.

Jareth stalked to the throne made of slate, and sank down gracefully—his arms on either arm rest, his back straight, and his feet parted. Everything about his pose screamed power. He looked like a king who was ready to announce his enemy’s beheading.

I shivered. “Now what?”

A low, echoing laugh. “Stand behind me, _Sarah dearest_ ,” Jareth lilted, his eyes slowly travelling up my form as I walked towards him. Color crept up my chest as his gaze turned heated. “Now, we see our first guest.”

I stood behind him, resting a shoulder on his throne. We must have looked quite a sight—the Goblin King in black leather and his mortal possession dressed to match.  

“Ready?” He raised a brow in question and I nodded. “Enter.”

I was utterly surprised when the Nastrondisian Crown Prince, Dagir walked in. The closer he got, the more I noticed how his princely face distorted with shock. He hadn’t expected to see me, I thought with a smile.

“Goblin King,” Dagir addressed Jareth said with a bow.

The lines on Jareth’s face tightened, his expression viciously condescending—as if he relished the sight of the Nastrondisian Crown Prince looking up at him. His lips twisted upward in cruel amusement as he let Dagir wait in suspense for a few, excruciating seconds. “You failed to address my mortal, Dagir.”

_My mortal?_

Dagir looked up at me, his ice gray eyes held equal parts aggression and surprise. “Lady of the Labyrinth,” he said with a quick bow.

I bowed back—making sure it was an extravagant gesture. “Crown Prince Dagir.”

He kept looking at me in surprise for some time before abruptly turning back to Jareth, who stared back at him, his gaze unwavering. “I apologize for dropping in, unannounced.”

Jareth sat perfectly still, but his eyes glittered with dark amusement. “I don’t care for formalities, Dagir. Although, I am _extremely_ curious as to what you’re doing in my castle. We’re not exactly the best of friends.”

Dagir seemed to gain some confidence as his eyes turned icy. “Astre told me you stopped over for a visit, the night before last.”

A cruel smile. “So I did.”

So _that’s_ where’d he been that night—the night he’d fucked me on his desk. _Not your business, Williams_. _Keep calm and carry the fuck on_.

Jareth’s smile only worked to anger Dagir, who already appeared on edge. “She told me you threatened her life.”

 _Well_. I hadn’t expected that. _Still not your business, Williams_.

Jareth’s smile sharpened, his predatory teeth in full view. “She conspired with Calestos to endanger my mortal, Dagir. She is fortunate I did not end her life.”

Dagir looked more surprised than angry—“You would kill your lover of centuries, the _First Princess_ of Nastrondis, over your mortal whore?”

_Whoa—did the man say ‘mortal whore’?_

I couldn’t help but let out an unladylike guffaw. _Mortal whore_?! _Who even used that term as an insult, anymore?_ I noticed both pair of eyes turn towards at me—Dagir looked bewildered while Jareth looked calculating—I could tell he was gauging my reaction. He’d be damn surprised if he’d thought I’d break down in tears.

“I’m sorry,” I said between gasps of laughter. “It’s just that the term _whore_ is such an outdated insult. Something that would have been offensive if I had Nancy Reagan’s value system…which I don’t.”

Jareth leaned back, eyes gleaming in cruel amusement. _Ah_ —I’d managed to keep _His Majesty_ entertained if only for a few moments.

Dagir frowned, looking even more confused. “I didn’t mean it as an insult.”

 _Oh dear_ , _that meant_ —

“So you thought ‘ _Goblin King’s whore_ ’ was part of my job description?” I asked, incredulous. For some reason, the thought was even funnier. “I _wish_ I could be his whore, but unfortunately, I don’t get paid to fuck him.” _Hell_ , I didn’t get paid at all, but I didn’t tell him that. “Our relationship goes way deeper than fucking, Crown Prince. You’d be absolutely _scandalized_ by some of the things he makes me do,” I kept my tone low and suggestive and flashed him a dazzling smile. _That_ was true enough—I wondered how long Dagir would last if Jareth made him stand idly while he sacrificed babies at the Irym.

Dagir’s mouth fell wide open while Jareth’s lips twisted up into a genuinely amused smile.

“Is that all?” Jareth questioned, raising a sardonic brow. He sounded infinitely bored and more than a little derisive. “You’ve risked your life traveling through the veils, all the way to my Kingdom, just to ask me if I threatened your wife? How _anticlimactic_.”

I could see Dagir’s hands ball into fists. “Should Astre die, the Nastrondisian throne falls to me.”

_No love lost in that marriage._

“Perhaps. But Oren will surely raise the condition that you marry Iselin first.”

Dagir didn’t seem concerned with that. “Iselin will _relish_ the opportunity to become First Princess. She would marry a mountain troll if necessary.”

I kept myself from letting out another crude guffaw—the Disney prince just compared himself to a troll. _Hilarious_.

“Perhaps you write off Iselin too easily,” Jareth replied evenly, scrutinizing the Prince’s every move with his dual gaze. “Regardless, I don’t quite see where you’re going with this.”

Dagir’s face grew harsh. The fairy tale prince wasn’t so handsome anymore. “Should you eliminate Astre, I will ally Nastrondis with the Astars.”

 _Well, fuck_. The shock must have been clearly evident on my face, as Dagir gave me a smirk.

Jareth stared at the Prince for a few moments, his gaze heavy. “I am… _surprised_ that you would come to me with such a proposal, Crown Prince. I will not kill Astre unless she gives me an adequate reason.” Jareth’s voice was deceptively quiet, but I could sense a steady undercurrent of anger beneath the surface.

“She is allied with Agea.”

A harsh laugh. “I know that, Crown Prince. Deimos has promised her access to our powers once we lose his war.”

Dagir gaped. “Is that not enough?”

Jareth laughed some more, as if he found the Crown Prince absurd. “I will not lose, Crown Prince. Astre’s alliance with Deimos is irrelevant.”

“The Gaelians have declared themselves neutral, I heard you sacrificed a minor princess and her child. The Nastrondisians and the Ifrits have allied with Agea. Surely, you don’t believe your mortal-” he caught himself from saying whore, “…vessel will be enough to win against Agea.”

When he put it like that, it didn’t sound so good. In fact, it sounded like we were fucked beyond redemption.

“Then I shall release the Labyrinth’s magic and let it consume the realm.”

_Good, fucking God. He could do that?_

Blood drained from Dagir’s face, his eyes widened into twin gray spheres. “You don’t have the power to do that.”

A slow, cruel smile. “Oh, but I do, Crown Prince.” Jareth stood up abruptly and placed an arm around my waist, pulling me into a brutal embrace. He trailed his fingers down the plunging neckline of my dress and kissed my neck, soothing my racing pulse. His rich voice rumbled against my back, “You’ve sought my help, Dagir, so allow me to grant you a counter offer.”

I willed away the beginnings of a frown on my forehead—Jareth’s actions were always controlled and calculated. I wondered what he wanted Dagir to think about us.

Dagir, for his part, stood still.

“If you wish for your dear wife to be eliminated, you must possess the courage and skills to do it yourself.” Jareth’s smile grew monstrous as Dagir’s jaw went slack. “Astre is ruthlessly cunning and exceedingly resourceful. If you can manage to kill her and live, I’ll know I have a worthy ally in you. I shall ensure the Nastrondisian crown is yours without having to marry Iselin.”

I turned around and gawked at him, open mouthed. He wanted Dagir to murder his wife? That was cold blooded…even for Jareth.

\--

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is Jareth up to? He’s a tricky bastard.
> 
> Sarah’s dress – Ralph & Russo, A/W 2017/2018, runway look 10.
> 
> AN: I’ve put up a post on slut-shaming of Jareth’s exes and/or the women who’re interested in him on my Tumblr (batesybates) – read it if interested. The two entr’actes are also posted there…along with random Bowie and interior décor posts. I’m also thinking of putting up a Dark Court recap—maybe some profiles for the OCs so check it out if interested.
> 
> On the word whore: I thought I’d write a Sarah who doesn’t balk at the word—it’s just a profession. She’s not going to suddenly get super offended and judge herself by Nancy Reagan’s value system. Which REALLY makes me curious as to the age group of Laby fic writers/readers, because ‘whore’ is used like the worst insult on earth.  
> 
> Someone once said I sound very pro-military based on how I write Amer and Arges (idealized heroes)…meh…I’m neutral on the military. My experience with the military has been, pretty much, only this (I graduated from HS in the US, the Iraq war had just started—the army was recruiting like crazy):
> 
> Military recruiter guy (MRG) on the phone: Hello, is this K?
> 
> Me: yea, who’s this?
> 
> MRG: K, you’re graduating this year, how are you paying for college?
> 
> Me: um…my mom and dad?
> 
> MRG: *silence* well, how’d you like to go for free?
> 
> Me: that would be great, I guess
> 
> MRG: *goes on a long speech about the general awesomeness of being in the army blah blah blah*
> 
> Me: I’m Canadian…and a Quaker—I’m into non-violence. *hangs up*
> 
> I assume MRG banged his head against the desk, cursing all entitled little assholes.
> 
> Mehehe, I wasn’t a Quaker. At 18, I had a pair of pink sweat pants with the word ‘Juicy’ written across the ass—I would have been useless in the military. But…the memory makes me wonder about how different life would have turned out if I couldn’t answer the man’s second Q.


	28. Failing Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the Labyrinth. I do not own the Beauty and the Beast either.
> 
> Reminder—after every 10 chapters, there’s an entr’acte – two of which are on my Tumblr (batesybates). The next entr’acte will occur after chapter 30.

 

**\--**

Jareth kept a level gaze with Dagir, completely oblivious to my display of shock. “ _Well_?” You could hear the sneer prevalent in his voice.

Dagir, for his part, seemed just as shocked as I was. The flaxen haired prince stared at Jareth for a few seconds before speaking—his words slow and carefully considered, “You want me to kill Oren’s daughter in his own castle?”

Shaking his head rather dramatically, Jareth let out a deep sigh—as if he were disappointed with Dagir’s simplistic question. “I don’t want you to do _anything_ , Crown Prince,” he mocked with a raised brow. “You’re free to do as you wish.”

 _You’re free to do as you wish_ —wasn’t that the same thing he’d said to me on numerous occasions? Had he been playing with _me_ all along?

A varied range of emotions flickered in Dagir’s eyes, but surprisingly, his face remained calm. “I can’t give you a definite answer tonight. Your proposal carries too many risks.”

Rich, mocking laughter. “Then I suggest you take your time and evaluate your options, Dagir. I do not believe your wife will take _your_ proposal _to me_ , very lightly.”

I couldn’t help but gasp at that. Jareth was threatening Dagir that he’d tell Astre what had transpired tonight. From what I knew of the First Princess, she was far more… _talented_ …than her husband. She’d kill him on the spot if she were to think of him as a threat.

A muscle twitched in Dagir’s jaw, as if he was trying really hard not to grit his teeth. Jareth had him by the balls and he knew it. Should he refuse Jareth’s proposal, Jareth could very easily tell Astre about Dagir’s offer. Should he _accept_ Jareth’s proposal, he’d find himself tasked with the very difficult option of killing off his wife, who, no doubt, was far more resourceful.

“I see you’re quite conflicted, Dagir—I suggest you head back to Nastrondis tonight. Come back to me when you have an answer.” Jareth’s voice held affected disinterest.

Dagir nodded curtly—he realized that he’d been dismissed. “Thank you for seeing me Goblin King.” He looked towards me and bowed, but didn’t say anything before turning around and walking away. 

“That was… _unexpected_ ,” I mumbled as the flaxen haired prince walked out of the colossal slate doors that must have led to the hallway…in whatever part of the castle this hall was situated. I suddenly felt ridiculous—I’d been here for months now, and yet I hadn’t explored the entire castle. I hardly had any free time with my lessons and practice sessions—but still, I made a mental note to remedy my ignorance.

Jareth turned to me, his expression indulgent and teasing. “No, _dearest_ , it wasn’t.” He laughed as my eyes widened in surprise. “Oh _, precious, precious creature_ , you’re so naïve,” he murmured, dual eyes alight with cruel humor.

_Of all the fucking, patronizing insults—!_

“You _expected_ him to ask you to kill his wife?” I asked, too annoyed to word the question less bluntly.

A slow, vicious smile. “I expected him to take the first opportunity to have his wife killed—since I’m the only person who seems to have threatened her life recently, he came to me. A simplistic move on his part, but then, Dagir has always been a simpleton.” He eyed me with scrutiny, I knew he was trying to study my thoughts.

 _Well_ , the only reading he was going to get was ‘damned confused.’ “So you _want_ him to kill his wife…?”

A flash of teeth. “No, _Sarah dearest_.” Jareth’s grin grew wider, his face turning more feral by the second, “I want him to scurry back to Astre, and alert her of my counter proposal.”

 _So he wanted Astre to know that he’d asked Dagir to murder her_ …? That made no sense to me. “I don’t get it.”

“You really don’t, _do_ you? You precious thing,” Jareth rumbled, his eyes glittering darkly. “I want them to be on guard, with _me_ and with _each other_. I wish to create adequate confusion so the house of Nastrondis may fall to someone I can, let’s call it… _trust_.”

 _Holy Jesus Christ_. “That is…” I couldn’t quite come up with the right term. Brutal? Methodically brutal? “Not what I expected.”

He flashed me an appraising glance. “Yes, well, you’re not experienced in antebellum relationships as per your own words. The Goblin Feast is set to be the most… _entertaining_ …one yet. I can’t wait to see who’ll be the first one to fall.”

I balked at the expression in his eyes—he looked like he savored the upcoming violence and chaos. Like it fed a certain dark part of his heart.

“You really wouldn’t care if she died?” I blurted aloud before I could stop myself. _Jesus fucking Christ, Williams—the hell did you have to say that?_ I groaned before holding up my hands, “Don’t answer that….I mean, unless you want to.” _Shut up, shut up—don’t say another word_.

Fortunately, Jareth only gave me a nonchalant shrug as a response, his gaze just a little colder—as if he didn’t like that particular question. And _that_ was the end of that.

Shifting on my feet, I looked towards the doorway. Wearing tall heels while standing for hours was damn tiring. “Are we done, or is someone else going to show up with an assassination request?”

In the blink of an eye, Jareth’s expression hardened considerably. “We’re not done. A devastating war is imminent, Sarah. Your jaded humor is unwarranted.”

 _Excuse me, Your Majesty_.

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes like a disaffected teenager. He didn’t have to be so damned condescending. I settled for glaring at Jareth, a hand on my hip. He glared back, a sudden spark of fire blazed in his dual gaze. It was really annoying how he could get so pissed off in a blink of an eye.

A familiar, rasping voice interrupted our stare off. “I feel as if I’m interrupting something Goblin King…” a pause followed by a throaty laugh, “…should I come back later?”

I couldn’t help but break out into a genuine smile as I saw Zepara stride towards us, her form tall and daunting, yet graceful. Her slate gray wings were slightly unfolded—her slanted black eyes glimmered with unhidden amusement.

“Zepara!” I cried, unable to hold back from running down the platform to give her a hug. “How’ve you been?”

Zepara hugged me back and gave me a wink. “Not as well as you, Starlight. You look ravishing, as always.”

“The credit goes to His Majesty—he chose the dress,” I said with a grin, knowing it’d annoy Jareth. “And you look like you’re ready to kick ass.” Dressed in her skintight black jumpsuit, she sure did. She looked like a ninja crossed with a dark angel.

“Are you here to converse with me, or seek an audience with my mortal?” Jareth interrupted our greeting, a telltale rhythm of anger in his voice.

‘ _Get back to your position, Sarah_ ’—Jareth spoke in my mind, his voice a bit too commanding for my liking.

I walked back up the platform steps and stood behind Jareth as he’d asked. “My apologies, Your Highness.” _I didn’t mean to take the limelight away from you for a measly few seconds, you attention whore_.

Zepara looked at Jareth, a jet black brow raised in question. “Can’t I do both?”

Jareth didn’t bother answering her. Cocking his head to the side, he changed the subject. “Any news from Azael?”

“Do you believe Azael has news for you, Goblin King?” Zepara retorted, her voice lighthearted. She could play his _questions game_ quite well, it seemed. Good for her.

“This grows tedious, Zepara,” Jareth drawled, his voice taking on a jaded quality. I’d known him long enough to recognize that meant that he’d had to put in extra effort _not_ to take the bait. And _that_ , in turn, meant she was getting to him. “I will ask you to leave, if you have nothing valuable to share.”

 _Ah—a sulky threat_.

Zepara smiled—her face taking on a predatory quality, her shoulders pulled back as she fluffed up her wings. She tilted her head and blinked her eyes. “Azael wonders where you are, Goblin King. The Ifrits have breached our Eastern walls. Two of our Stone Temples have been desecrated.”

Jareth’s eyes widened very, very slightly in response—she’d surprised him. “I shall send reinforcements. We’ve recently been… _blessed_ …with new magic, we can use it to our advantage.”

“The Gaelian…?” Zepara surmised, a question to her voice. She couldn’t hide the flash of disgust that flitted across her face.

Jareth responded with a slow, cruel smile. “Unless, of course, you’d rather let your cities burn with Ifriti fire.”

I gasped in surprise. That wasn’t a sulky threat, it was a _real_ one. I knew from my lessons that the Zephyrs didn’t have enough soldiers or strength to fight the Ifrits—they would die out without Jareth’s help.

Zepara didn’t respond to his threat—she looked up at me, her birdlike eyes narrowing as she focused on my face. “I can feel a remnant of Gaelian magic within you, Starlight,” she said, her throaty voice an octave deeper. “How is it possible for a mortal to absorb Gaelian magic?”

I raised my brows by reflex. “I have no clue.” And that was the truth.

Eyes narrowing as he focused on the female Zephyr in front of him, Jareth spoke, interrupting our conversation, “Not that it concerns you, but Sarah survived the binding ceremony—something none of our kind has survived. Gaelian magic is a far weaker force to withstand.”

Zepara turned her penetrating gaze onto me, as if revaluating my skills…my _worth_ , so to speak. After a few moments of silence, she gave me a sly wink. “Perhaps you can seek me out when you’re free, Starlight….” her gaze turned heated, and her voice sultry, “…I’d like to test your… _abilities_ …to the fullest.”

My mouth fell open at her suggestive tone. _Was she flirting with me_? “Uh….”

“Anything _else_ , Zepara?” Jareth interrupted once again, his tone clipped and his gaze icy.

Eyes dancing with wicked mirth, as if she relished Jareth’s annoyance, Zepara gave him a small, informal bow. “Not at all, Goblin King. When can I expect those reinforcements you spoke of?”

The lines around Jareth’s mouth tightened. “Tomorrow. I’ll send you one of my best captains and a young lord who has a bit of a penchant for proving himself. His personality is as such that you may consider murdering him, but kindly refrain from doing so.”

Zepara’s expression softened, she gave Jareth a small but genuine smile. “Thank you,” she told him before turning towards me. “My invitation stands, Starlight,” she said with a smirk. “Until next time.” 

Jareth frowned as he watched her walk away, her massive wings unfolding with every step she took. “You did not use the veils in coming here, you may succumb to exhaustion should you choose to fly.”

Halting her steps, Zepara turned her head and gave him an unconcerned shrug. “I happen to be much stronger than you give me credit for, Goblin King.” That’s all she said before striding out of the room, her head held high…leaving behind a decidedly annoyed Goblin King.

“Foolish Zephyr,” Jareth rumbled as he watched her retreating form. “She’s willing to risk death to prove a point.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to look weak in front of _you_ ,” I blurted, cursing myself as he turned his arresting gaze onto me.

Excruciating silence followed for a few heartbeats before he spoke. “Thank you for your input, _Starlight_.”

 _Okay_. _So_ he _was pissed_. And he could go fuck himself.

I shrugged. Keeping my voice as sweet as I could, I chose to respond with, “My pleasure, _Your Highness_.”

A scorching glance. “I suggest you stop pushing me, _Sarah dearest_.”

 _Right_ —this whole thing had been about _me_ pushing _him_.

“That goes both ways, Jareth,” I retorted—my voice wasn’t sweet anymore and neither was the expression in my eyes as I glared back at him.

I don’t know how long we stood there, or _I_ stood there rather, Jareth was still sitting down on his throne, comfortable as ever, before Amer’s booming voice interrupted our _second_ stare off. “Should I be worried? You look like you want to murder each other.”

The High General walked in, clothed in full battle armor made of muted silver and brown leather. His inky black curls were cut short, military style. He looked different, _harsher_ perhaps. His glowing amber eyes, however, remained the same—friendly and warm. “Your Highness,” he said with a deep bow, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Jareth snapped his gaze away from mine. “General,” he greeted Amer—his voice cool and formal. Looked like His Highness wasn’t just pissed with me.

Amer grinned at me, oblivious to Jareth’s frosty tone. “Lady Sarah.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Great timing, General Amer,” I said with a wink. “I was beginning to fear for my safety…or sanity, whichever came first.”

Laughing his loud, booming laugh, Amer looked at Jareth, “And here I thought you were doing your best to ascertain Lady Sarah’s cooperation in the upcoming war, Your Highness.”

His _best_ to ascertain my cooperation? I had to hold back snorting with laughter. _Yeah, right_.

Jareth only shook his head in response before relaxing his muscles—he was now seated languidly. One lanky, booted leg thrown over an armrest—his head resting on his hand. “How many legions of goblins were you able to organize, Amer?”

Amer grinned. “Twenty. Each with a thousand green demons.”

Looking pleased, Jareth turned to me. “I want a team of three around Sarah at all times during the Goblin Feast. Use the same ones from last time.”

_Wait—what?_

“No way!” I interjected before Amer could reply. “As adorable as those three are, I don’t want them around me _at all times_.” I shuddered at the thought of being surrounded by three noisy, unruly goblins while trying to trying to maneuver the castle, wearing one of Renya’s risqué dresses. One of them could step on my dress and tear the entire thing right off my body—wardrobe malfunction via goblin!

“I’m afraid the matter’s not up for debate, _Sarah dearest_ ,” Jareth sneered at me, his voice holding a dangerous edge—as if daring me to disagree.

I opened my mouth to do just that, when I felt Amer place his large hand on my arm.

“Lady Sarah, if I may,” Amer spoke, taking on a placating tone. “I will instruct them to keep a considerable distance from you. Goblins are native to the territory that is the Astar Kingdom, and as such, have powers that goes beyond the capability of any other being.”

When put like that, it sounded logical _—damn Jareth—_ making me react without thinking.

I nodded, a sigh escaping my lips. “If there’s nothing else, I need to get to bed.” I glanced at Jareth, seeking His Highness’s approval, lest he throw a fit.

A cold, cruel smile. “You’re free to leave, _precious thing_ ,” Jareth told me, his smile growing wider by the second, “…if you know _how_.”

Of course, I _didn’t_ know how _. What a fucking asshole._

Something must have shown on my face as Amer rushed up the platform and started leading me away.  He gave me rakish grin, his amber eyes lighting up. “I must implore you not to kill my King, Lady Sarah. Even if he may deserve it.”

Finding Amer’s grin contagious, I smiled back. “I’ll try my best, General, but I make no promises.”

Jaret stared at both of us, his arrogant features arranged so that he looked infinitely bored. “If you’re both finished with laughing at my expense, I’d like to take this meeting to the War Hall,” he said, standing up in one smooth motion, his unnerving eyes intent on mine. “Considering how _inexperienced_ you are, _dearest_ , this will be of some help.”

Read— _get your ass to the War Hall, Sarah_.

“Fine,” I mumbled, holding onto the General’s arm on purpose. If Jareth was going to be an antagonistic ass, I was going to keep my distance.

\--

Not used to sifting with fire, I tried my best to keep from screaming as the last of Amer’s amber flames died down around us. Just as the previous room, I’d never been in the War Hall before—and just as the previous room, the War Hall was made of polished stone. There were no windows, but decorative tapestries hung high up on the walls. There was a large mahogany table in the middle that looked like a creepy game board with massive pieces distributed throughout.

 “What’s that?” I asked, going towards the table, my curiosity getting the best of me. It was beautifully carved—on the surface was the map of the entire Underground. I suppose Hollywood got _that part_ correct. People without computers planned wars on big ass chessboards. For all the magic available in this world, it sure as hell was backwards in terms of technology. And then I realized something else—just as the maps I’d seen in the history books in my lessons, the model existed on a flat surface. Which made me wonder if we were on a flat planet.

 _Wait a second_ —w _as it even possible for a planet to be flat_?

Logic told me that it was impossible for a planet to be flat if it rotated in a circular trajectory…but if seasons were mostly set in this realm, did this planet even rotate around the sun, or an equivalent star? Hell, my understanding of life and physical sciences had taken a vicious beating. I didn’t even know whether the sun and the moon were the same as those I saw from Earth.

“Lady Sarah?” Amer’s voice interrupted my ruminations—his amber eyes concerned. “You look disturbed.”

I shook my head, grasping a glass Nastrondisian soldier figurine. “I’m alright—just feel like everything I’ve ever known to be true has been dismantled. Nothing makes sense…I have a million questions and no one can give me the right answers.”

Jareth’s cold, harsh laughter reverberated against the polished walls. “And you experienced this _grand_ _epiphany_ by looking at a Nastrondisian figurine? Perhaps you should let your fragile human brain rest a little _Sarah dearest_. Or else you may _break_ it.” The words were so coldly spoken that I almost gasped aloud.

I glared daggers at Jareth. He stood at the head of the table, upper body bent at the waist, both hands grasping the edge—a predator with his back arched. He looked back, unflinchingly—pale, mismatched eyes a paradox of ice and fire.

“What the fuck is your problem, Jareth?” I questioned, sick of his mercurial moods. I didn’t care that Amer was there and I’d breached protocol.

Jareth wasn’t the least bit fazed. “I have many, _Sarah dearest_. You need to be more specific.”

 _Asshole_.

“What is your problem with _me_ , Your _Supreme_ Majesty?” I couldn’t help but spit out the words, my tone acerbic enough that General Amer looked surprised.

A cruel, canine smile. “With _you_ , my _sweet_ mortal?” Jareth crooned, the look in his eyes terrifyingly devoid of any emotion. “You accepted the Labyrinth’s terms, yet do not have the stomach for it. You judge me for my flaws, whatever they may be, yet you absolve yourself of yours. You _revel_ in playing the role of the weak, innocent mortal in the clutches of a deranged Goblin King…whether it’s in front of the Zephyr or the Demi General.” His eyes raked up and down my form. “Those are a few to begin with.”

I went white as blood drained from my face—I didn’t feel the hot, blazing anger that I’d felt earlier. I felt numb and cold. _Was he fucking serious_? Hadn’t he asked me to play the role in the first place? He had no right to be so infuriated.

Jareth’s smile remained when I didn’t answer him. “Cat got your tongue, _Sarah dearest_?”

Amer stepped in-between us. “Stop.”

A bitterly derisive laugh. “I can’t get full use out of her as my vessel if you heroically rush in to her rescue, Amer. She’ll come to you for sympathy.” Jareth cocked his head to one side, turning his glacial gaze onto me. “That is your modus operandi, isn’t it? Playing the victim… _my_ victim.”

I opened my mouth, but couldn’t answer him. I was so cold with rage—cold enough that I’d started shivering, my flesh breaking out into goosebumps.

Amer peered at me for a few moments, a look of surprise on his face before turning to Jareth. “Jareth, you must stop. She’s beginning to emit magic.”

Jareth gave him a harsh scoff. “Yes…we must be careful because she is a fragile, unfortunate human, mustn’t we?”

_I broke._

All the feelings that I’d kept repressed surged upwards, to the surface, and my mind went white. My body trembled with cold fury and my teeth chattered. I felt charged with electricity—the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up, as did the hair on my head. When I spoke, my voice sounded different to my own ears. “I didn’t know the Labyrinth was a bloodthirsty magical entity, Jareth. I didn’t know how strange and violent this world would be”

General Amer looked more than a little concerned, but Jareth didn’t so much as blink an unnerving eye. His trademark cruel smile remained on his harshly beautiful face. “Ah yes, using ignorance to absolve yourself. This game that you play gets tiring, _Sarah dearest_.”

I clenched my teeth, trying to keep them from chattering. Magic seeped out of my skin in small sparks. “I have no rights here, Jareth. I belong to you—to do with as you wish. I’ve been captured and tortured by a sadist who shoved a knife into my heart. I’ve been burned, drowned and ripped apart.” I could hear my strange voice growing louder, but I couldn’t control it. “I have no fucking way out. You seem to hate me because of your own obsession and yet you can’t let go of me. You may think my mortal life isn’t worth much, but this isn’t what I want—to be tied to someone who’s going to alternate between hating and fucking me for all eternity.”

By the time I was done speaking, I couldn’t hear myself. Everything went really, really quiet before bursting into… _chaos_. Blood roared in my ears and my skin sizzled. Magic diffused out of me in large bursts, not small sparks. I couldn’t control it, the _destruction_ , as things began falling apart.

_‘Take control, Sarah—before it takes you. Learn to help yourself.’_

_Learn to help yourself_?!

Fucking arrogant prick—I felt like ripping his head apart. Unfortunately, my growing anger only made matters worse. My vision went white—I could hear a loud crack.

 ‘ _Sarah, concentrate_!’

_Was that pain in his voice? Had I attacked him?_

The thought sobered my anger considerably. I’d never been the sort to resort to physical violence, and I certainly wouldn’t allow Jareth to goad me into it now. I concentrated on halting that chaos that ran rampant in my head—focusing only on the sound of my breathing.

\--

_Holy fucking shit._

The first thing I noticed as my vision cleared was the giant mess. The war table was completely broken apart, bits and pieces, splinters of rich mahogany wood lay scattered across the hall. The tapestries that hung on the polished walls were torn and frayed.

I turned to look at Jareth—my mouth dropping wide open. Holy fucking shit, indeed. The Goblin King’s leather gear had more than a few gashes…as did his face. Blood dripped from a large laceration on his right cheekbone. So much for not resorting to physical violence—I’d turned into someone who appeared on Jerry Springer. Magical Jerry Springer.

Swallowing twice before finding my voice, I asked, “Did I…do that?”

Jareth grinned from ear to ear in response. He didn’t look angry anymore. Hell, he looked fucking ecstatic. “Yes…though you did manage to cause yourself some harm as well.”

I yelped as I looked at myself—the flimsy dress was in pieces. _Good fucking God, I may as well have been naked!_

“Allow me to repair the damage,” Jareth said with a slow chuckle. With a wave of his arm, the entire room was restored, as was my dress.

“Lady Sarah,” Amer’s loud voice was uncharacteristically quiet. “How do you feel?” He didn’t seem as ecstatic as Jareth, but there was something in his gaze…perhaps it was admiration.

“Fine,” I replied, studying my hands and arms. There were no burns or cuts or even bruises. “That wasn’t… _intentional_.”

Jareth laughed—a rich, throaty sound. He looked delighted, as if he was enjoying an inside joke that only he understood. “What a pity.”

In a flash of a second, my anger resumed…tenfold. So he thought shoving me into a metaphorical corner, until I attacked him, was a joke?  What a fucking—! I couldn’t think of an insult strong enough.

“You overbearing fatalistic asshole,” I stomped towards him and shoved his leather clad chest… _hard_. “You couldn’t try anything else? We could have been seriously injured. Where the fucking hell would your Kingdom be then, Your Highness?”

Amusement flickered in Jareth’s dual gaze—a twist of lips and a flash of teeth. “Why, _Sarah dearest_ , I didn’t know you cared.”

“ _Don’t_ …just don’t talk to me anymore,” I demanded, whirling around and walking a good, healthy distance away from him before leaning against a cool wall. I sank down to the ground and held my knees to my chest—a wounded pose. The gorgeous dress which had already been ruined once before was going to be ruined again, but I didn’t care.

Amer walked up to me and knelt down, he took one of my hands in his much larger one and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Allow me to sift you to your chambers, Lady Sarah.”

“Thank you, General.” I said—giving him a slight nod which indicated that he had my permission.

I couldn’t help but glance at Jareth before we sifted out in a blaze of fire, surprised to find a trace of relief in his pale eyes. He was undoubtedly pleased by my display of magic—I wondered what that meant, and whether I could _truly_ trust him.

\--

I’d thought Jareth would keep my schedule light the next day as I’d physically and emotionally exhausted myself the night before, but I turned out to be miserably wrong. The insufferable prick had set up a training session…with the Silver Lady.

She smiled at me as I entered the practice hall, “My nephew believes you’re strong enough to face me, Defeater.”

 _Your nephew can go straight to hell_ , I wanted to say—of course, I didn’t.

I smiled back nervously. “I guess we’ll find out if he’s correct.”

The Silver Lady’s iridescent eyes lightened with humor. “Then let us begin.”

The giant, silver woman didn’t give me a second to prepare myself before she started barraging me with magic. I lay on the ground, flattened by the sheer force of her attack.

“Come now, Defeater. I was told you were ready.”

My temper flared—I could hear Jareth’s smugness in her voice. Standing up, I braced myself. “Let’s start over.”

\--

My temper had died down considerably and turned into something else by the time I was done with the Silver Lady’s training session. Though, perhaps, training session wasn’t the correct term. It was more of a _beating session_. Jareth and Amer were both pieces of cake compared to her.

Half way through magical training, she’d been shocked to hear that I knew nothing of hand-to-hand combat—apart from a measly self-defense class I’d taken years ago in college. She’d taken it upon herself to teach me a few basic moves…which meant, unfortunately, that I’d been flipped over, punched, dragged by the hair, and kicked a few times. Within five hours, I’d slumped down on the ground—my body a crumpled heap.

“I am pleasantly surprised, Defeater,” the formidable woman declared, studying me with an intense gaze. “You fared better than expected.”

I gaped at her. “I feel like I’m dying a slow and torturous death. How is that _faring well_?”

She smiled in response—a flash of sharp, elongated teeth. _Jesus_. If Jareth’s smile was scary, hers was on a whole other level altogether.

“I’d like for us to continue training together, Defeater. I shall see you tomorrow.”

 _Good lord_. I could feel my bones whimper at the prospect. Opening my mouth mutely, I wondered how to word a polite refusal.

Fortunately, Jareth’s amused laughter interrupted our conversation as he sifted to the practice hall. Dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored gray pants, he looked a tad informal than he usually did.

“Aunt Meyrra,” he said with a playful smirk, “It looks as if you’ve battered my mortal black and blue. I need her alive, you know that.” 

My blood ran hot the second my eyes fell on him—last night’s events still fresh in my memory.

 _‘Stand up and greet me,’_ he spoke, or commanded rather, in my mind.

Gritting my teeth, I did as he asked. “Your Highness,” I said with a bow, wincing as my muscles protested. I was fairly certain there was going to be a massive bruise on my ribcage, where I’d taken a nasty punch.

The Silver Lady didn’t smile back. “Your mortal has far more potential than you realize,” she told him before glancing at my direction. “You’re capable of great strength, Defeater, in spite of being mortal. I would like you to consider training with me.”

“Sure…if I have time, I guess,” I responded—what else could I say to that? I turned to Jareth. “Is there anything you need from me, Your Highness? I was going to take a much needed bath.” _And collapse into bed._

A slow, pointy grin. “As was I, Defeater. Perhaps we can take one together.”

My jaw dropped open. What. The. Fuck.

There was a ghost of a smile on the Silver Lady’s lips, “I shall bid you both goodnight.” That’s all she said before sifting out of the practice hall, leaving me behind with a highly entertained Jareth.

“What the hell is _wrong_ with you?” I demanded, utterly incensed.

Jareth gave me an elegant shrug, as he raised a laconic brow.  “I thought you would have figured out the answer to that particular question by now, _precious thing_. I didn’t expect you to be so… _dimwitted_.”

Taking in a few deep breaths, I forced myself to stay level headed. _He’s riling you up on purpose, Williams—don’t give in_.

“Why would you let her think we’re involved in any way?” I enquired, changing the topic. Hadn’t he pretty much insinuated that he was ashamed for being fixated on me? That I was his weakness?

He laughed at that—a wicked gleam in his dual gaze. “In what way are we… _involved_ …? Perhaps you should say your right words.”

I clenched my fists. “Fine. Sleeping together—that’s what you let her think on purpose.”

“But we’ve hardly slept together, _Sa-rah_ ,” Jareth responded without missing a beat. “Perhaps the term you meant to use was ‘fucking.’ And if that _was_ indeed the case, then I must confess that I don’t understand your reluctance. We are, indeed, _fucking_.”

I went red in the face.

A wicked sharp grin. “Oh _precious_ creature, so easily enraged.”

Before I could tell Jareth to go fuck himself, he closed the distance between us in a few large strides, and wrapped his arm around my waist.

\--

The utterly arrogant ass sifted us right into his personal bathroom—complete with a swimming pool sized sunken tub full of steaming hot water. I forced myself to remain calm. _Calm down, Williams—don’t get pissed. You might magically abuse him again._

“You sifted us into your bathroom.” I observed bluntly.

A sharp smile. “Well…you definitely look as if you’re in desperate need of a bath.” He unloosened his collar and cuffs, oblivious to my growing anger.

My mouth dropped open as he kept undressing himself. “After what happened last night, you seriously expect me to…” my drifted off—what did he expected me to do anyway…? He couldn’t be dumb enough to think I’d take a fucking bubble bath with him.

Jareth’s mouth tightened. “I thought to heal you—your session with the Silver Lady must have been trying.”

 _That was one way of putting it._ I rolled my eyes—“Don’t expect me to believe your intentions are honorable, Jareth.”

Jareth’s expression hardened just a smidge, a spark of emotion flaring in his unnerving eyes. “Regarding last night…” he paused as he stalked closer to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. “I wish to apologize, _precious thing_.”

My mouth dropped open for an entirely different reason. _Jareth…? Wanted to apologize…?_

“I must be dreaming,” I muttered, suddenly very aware of the heat emanating from his hands as his fingers traced down my arms and settled at my waist.

Rumbling out a rich laugh, Jareth bent forward and whispered in my ear, “You will accept my _apology_ , won’t you?”

Heat crept up my face, spreading down my neck and chest. Trust him to make an apology sound so indecently _obscene_ instead of…and then it hit me. Jareth didn’t mean a normal apology.

\--

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonder how J’s going to apologize?
> 
> AN: I had a synchronized dance practice last night (with copious amounts of alcohol consumed)—and have a 10k run tomorrow. My life’s turning a tad bizarre. But my new cook is amazing—she makes the best green mango salad type dish. Am off to one of my favorite cities – BKK next week. Don’t think I’ll be able to publish another chapter of this, but I can’t wait for things to pick up.
> 
> American Thanksgiving has come and gone—can you believe it? This year went by so fast. Thought certain things would be ‘done’ this year—but they got pushed to the next. Feeling the tick-tock of the baby clock.
> 
> Q—(statement) you give young people terrible advice. They should do the opposite.
> 
> A—I can dole out some good advice too—in light of Jareth’s apology in the next chapter—young peeps, when it comes to oral sex, while giving may be powerful in some scenarios (like chapter 12 of this fic), my motto is receive, receive well, receive momentously, before giving anything.


End file.
